i hope he wants the bad girls,
the ones with danger in their blood,
and mischief in their eyes.

i hope he likes he sad girls,
the ones with scotch in one hand,
a gun in the other one,
and a cigarette hanging from their
dry, unwanted lips.

i hope he needs the mad girls,
the ones with ***** hands and ***** mind,
making him go insane with just a lick of the lips.

i hope he loves the lonely girls,
the ones who spend sleepless nights
drinking beer from cans, hating
themselves for becoming something
they swore they‘d never become,
for bad, bad boys,
like him.

can you still be my king
even if some other girl
is your queen?
my world and my soul
will be complete
if you just stood in front of me,
and winked.
can you still be mine
even if you're hers?
happiness is what you deserve,
but can I be your favorite girl?

i'm surrounded by
maybe‘s and
false hopes,
unreal possibilities of
me and you,
kissing on a roofop in new york,
while the sun is just
above the horizon,
the moon still in sight,
me, holding your cold hand,
warming it up with
the coldness of my soul,
and after a peaceful moment,
you'll shot a smile at me,
and it will be
the bullet that pierces
through my soul and
kills me greatly.

Don't allow yourself to feel "dumb" or "stupid" based on your inability to achieve something you care little about.

-Joseph B Schneider