pretty boy
with the curly blonde hair
and the guitar in your hands,
you've been plucking
at my heartstrings
all night long
I watched you
your sleepy eyes closed,
your hands gripping at mine
as if you were gripping at life itself —
then you looked at me
and I swore you were convinced that you were
pretty boy
with the callused fingers,
I don't mind
when I feel your rough hands
on my tender skin—
your touch could make me bleed
but I wouldn't mind
being ruined by you
pretty boy
with the beautiful mind,
when you said
"let's go stargazing"
I forgot to mention
that I already was
every time I looked in your eyes
pretty boy
with the tender heart
I can feel you breathing beside me
I can hear your heart racing
I promise
I would never hurt you—
I hope you promise the same
because you see,
I've got a tender heart as well
and you've got knives for hands
