he was death
he was desire
he was silk, tears
blood and fire
he was laughter
he was less
beauty in
unconsciousness
fingers
burning to the touch
straight-through stares
that meant too much
he was silence
in the pain
violent kisses
in the clutch of acid rain
he was liquor hair
and tragic endings
he was seconds
before sunrise, and
he was pretending
all along.
he was selfish prayers;
that single lost forever
he was black paint on the walls
and the romance we never knew
e x i s t e d
he was stolen hand-picked lilies
the ring I never wore
the note I never finished
and the boy I still adore

---

I don't normally do this, but in this case the writer and inspiration were so perfect I had to. This peice is based heavily on he was velvet by citrus scented. She herself gave me permission to post this, so don't go yelling about copyright crap.

Love it, hate it, it really doesn't matter... because this means so much more to me than you'll ever know.