I will try to run away
I will pull as hard as I can
but you promised you would stay
leaving was never in the plan

My beautiful dark
twisted boy
tell me your greatest fear
tell me why you’re so sad
for the most thing I can do
Is love you in writing

I’m nothing but bad art
and bad poems
waiting for you to come home
waiting for you to come fix me

I hope that one day
I can be the sun
that shines in the darkest part of you

I hope it haunts you
that I let you go
because you’ve torn me apart
from head to toe
not just the wounds on my body
but the wounds in my soul

I am made of Sugar and spice and everything nice,
and lust, and pain,
and bitter refrains,
and love one-sided,
or never returned, then lost,
or felt too deeply
no matter the cost

I am an insomniac
addicted to crack
hooked on drugs
to keep away the bugs,
with my skin turning red
I just wish I was dead
I am an insomniac

She thinks of her heart
as a crystal vase of love
easily broken
but, beautiful.
men think of her heart
as a toy to be played with
and then rejected
beautiful, and a challenge
sitting as another trophy