We Are Talk Sick, I Mean, Toxic

Want to know why the human heart is associated with being in love? It’s because love is bloody. I read her body language and she leaves me red. I try and pack a bag, just in case our words get lost in decent descent, I’ll just take off. We are talk sick, I mean, we’re Toxic. We lock horns, dear God; we were once fond of each other. Call me Mr. Blacksmith, every time you want to screw me over, I bolt for the door. All we do is kill our old selves, you stab me in the back while I plunge this blade deep, deep, deeper into me. My days off from work are your off days, all I want to do is rest, all you want is the rest of the unrest. I cry, I cry, I cry, I am crying.

It is love at fight sight, a shove at first fight; this is us once it turns night. With the same sword you knight me, you swing and ching it from my thick skin. Maybe we should break up, maybe we should make up, naked in our conversations we cover up our complications.

I am heat seeking for peace

But before I be seated,

My proposed proceedings have gone beyond all reasoning,

 I need to keep this ghost close near me,

Every day for all four seasons,

Heaven can wait,

For this hero’s heavy-loads of bleedings,

Buried before my death cheatings,

I verbally assault because I am mentally distraught,

A message I am leaving,

Terribly fought in self grievances,

Killing me not with failed feelings,

Things were better before,

This male became too distant for this long,

Pissed in and beaten,

You locked your missiles on this freak show,

You won’t have to deal with me soon.