letters to anyone from a lonely soul
baby, bad guys are called 'bad' guys for a reason. they break, they'll make you think you're the best thing they've ever laid eyes on and then turn a shoulder and catch a glimpse of someone else, tell you they're going to go get a drink and do the same thing to them. they're hand on your waist holding your slick skin against theirs, late at night or in the middle of the day. they'll destroy, holding sharp glass in their hands as remnants of bitter words fall from their lips, they'll drive off and never come back and they'll leave you no clues to what happened or why they're gone. they kill, they tattoo blood into their visible veins and carry pistols in their back pockets, psychopaths, you'd say, they'd nod and agree with the sickest smile you've seen. now, what makes me such a bad person? i'm not all that psycho, neither do i like to break hearts, or make people feel bad. i have fits and leave, but i never stay away. is it my dire crave to stay away from anything romantic? or is it my issues with commitment, in, well, anything? maybe. mostly just the fact that i don't know. my mind is swirls, not that cliche black and white thing either, they're colors swirling and they don't stop. if they do, maybe for a second, you see what they say, but then before you finish they're gone. bloodshot eyes in my mirror, not because of the highs. long sleeved shirts because the way the cold bites at my skin makes me feel, alive. coffee, because caffeine doesn't effect me, and its a common ground for a lot of people. yes, let me clarify, lots of people use coffee to wake them up or keep them up, and i drink it lots, but it never effects me. i'm at my own will. i, push people away, and rarely do i share writing like this, all because of insecurities i wish were more like that caffeine.
