you would call it a rash decision,
many would agree,
it didnt matter, for it wasnt mine to make.
ending it was a beginning of another,
relations that werent meant to be.
you could call it a rash decision,
i would agree,
for that the relationship was one to be.

here i sit, thinking of only you,
wondering what is to become of us.
understanding all of what you are,
hoping to slowly gain your trust.
my heart aches for you, and also i yearn,
i want to understand you,
that everything that makes you, you.
your unique and special qualities amaze me,
your smile, ever so warm.
your mind, ever so thoughtful.
your voice, ever so angelic.
your eyes, ever so stunning.
your hair, ever so beautiful.
and definately, your ability to cheer me up
when you see me down.
my feelings for you goes beyond words.

and at first it didnt seem real,
and that taught me a lesson,
in doubting what i feel,
it seemed i dreamed you into life,
and the reason for my stare.
the bluest sky,
the deepest ocean,
dont even compare.

you're so special in every single way,
and thoughts of you run through my head
every hour of the day.
i hope that you will understand,
just how much of this i feel,
i want to be your guiding hand,
for all that you're going through.

these are not words of pleasement,
but magic from my heart, to you.

we're all someone else's firework, and they are ours, but sadly not all are for you to have, neither for us to have.

we were so full of life, charisma and character,
but it was what we were so desperately wanted
that brought us towards our end,
destroying everything we were.
that my friend, was,
love.

long and luscious,
burning fire
slow and slick,
sweet desire.

in love and passion,
in depths within,
light and flicker,
a seductive sin.

rock and rolls, the dope i cant live without.
Its the estacsy that excites me, 'headbang'.
its the mother of all music, aint it?
Sweet Home Alabama, a Sweet Child O everything,
a music for the harshest of gods.
maybe thats why they have 'horns', scream
and go real high,
well its rock and roll, aint it?
so lets Shoot to Thrill, women and music,
liquior and bros, on the Highway to Hell,
rocking non stop, oh it Shook me all night long.

I am told I am destined for Better Things
My kismetSealed with a dry kiss
A drop of blood
And an eyeliner smudge
Whilst I am shattering infinite mirrors
And trampling angel fetuses.
My locusa circle, in my
blind hunt for Better Things
You can't hear my scream through all this
cotton wool
and I can't see for blackness
I've saved in the past,
a Knight in Shining Armor
Now I am trapped
Armadillo fashion
In this woman shaped cage
They said I looked almost angelic
In my comet tailed
Star studded descent
Idiosyncratic in my lack of indifference
Diving for oysters
Holding Better Things
Now sitting in deaf icy stillness
Hand nearly frozen pen-shaped
Mind unable to carry these
Poetic abortions to full term
In order to cleanse itself
For the wait for Better Things