my skin is flushed with a tan and baby-soft touches,
that were broken and stretched apart by the lies that leaked from his complexion,
and “grandmother-worthy-smile”, -- (screw that.)

l-o-v-e was typed out in different fonts to emphasize...something,
now I think it was to show how quickly it could
change. he was just a goth boy with nothing better to do,
then whisper honey-tinted words from a blood soaked mouth,
enticing me with the sweet scent and color red.

I'd never had a thing for roses and their morbidity – until he handed me some;
“Mademoiselle.”
I've found them eerie ever since.

he was everything I thought I wanted,
back when dark brown eyes held a deep dark meaning for me
and I wanted a romantic who would lead into the depths
of hell beyond and below, so that maybe I could get used to life's pains.
but he stuck me in limbo, so I had no where to go
and nothing to complain about. it was as if he had cut out my tongue.

I was alone,
and “in love”.

(screw that.)

a/n.

guess I just never earned his respect...