The devil carries his misleading intentions inside the blue of my eyes, sinking an unbearable natural disaster that floods the streets of the cities perfection. Letting the concrete to conclude that the water only came from societies tears, drenching unfortunate circumstances washing the houses away in a slide of mud, resistant to stability. Because the heart has always been afraid, change was the only medicine. Because he was nothing better than a lone wolf 'pack' stinging for the desire of blood but only came up with the lost vision of love. Crazed off of hallucinogens, hungry for the high, living of the poisson, dying form the neglect. Didn't even know what abounded felt like, because to be abandoned must have meant he felt love at some point. I guess I was the one who ruined it. Breed from satins heart, crafted from the minds of hell. See here, I like games. NO! I love games, I play hard. And he fell. My touch feels like an angels, calming, I could tell it was working by the look in his dark brown eyes. My body language talks in smooth tongues, I could tell I was winning by the way he grabbed me but my intentions are skewed, I guess that's why they call me the devil's angel. Deceiving, mister meaning, down right intoxicating. Irresistible death. Like a destination of impulse struggling for a reality that never even exsisted. I guess it got hard to remember the truth, all that filled the air were empty lies and bulls***. But for me....it's always been empty bottles, white girl, and ice, griping at the throat of reality seeping into the cracks of insanity. When you have the devils bite marks on your neck and his finger pints branded into your side and his memory ingrained into your heart the confinement of pure love and the absolute excile of hate will never be enough to change the mind of an angels devil. But a little bit of pain will help me suffer when I hurt for real....