Her dandy, dazed gaze was so disarming,
mired in my haunted bliss,
and all the promises that I had made her,
she was still so surprising,
scorching the earth with a smirk on her lips and a cold can of demons in her delicate hand.
She tasted like danger,
candy from a stranger,
the kind of love that God gives out to little girls that he couldn’t quite give up on.
She makes me destructive,
but I deserve it,
quite richly, for all of my sanctioned suffering,
and how my hopes were dashed,
my hopes that were once high enough to greet the clouds as they awoke.
It is not time to hope, now,
it is time to live,
to love in a way that makes my father sick,
to destroy his daughter and be reborn in the shadow of a soulmate.
She keeps me captive,
and I scratch stanzas into the steel bars with short fingernails that deserve to be forgiven,
for this is disarming, charming love,
destructive to the last second,
delicious to the last bite.
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