. . .
You’re just so typical.
Oh…so predictable.
With eyes the color of a nuclear fallout.
Ozone depletion is the not-so technical term.
Hair the shade of black that only the finest abyss could hope to achieve.
is your heart just as far down?
You say it’s on your sleeve but I do not see it.
Metaphors do not suit you my dear, if you do not know what they mean.
Mean, mean, mean.
my gluttonous queen.
What drew me to you? Was it the the radiation glow?
Even the most beautiful things shine.
If that’s the case, I am the light in the ashes of the Garden of Eden.
“perfect” you said. with a precursor of “we would be”.
What is it then? Are you scared?
This just makes you like every other woman on this spinning ball of destruction.
You are scared of perfection, scared of…well….actually feeling something.
Narcism? Arrogance?
I call it Pride and self-confidence.
I call it euphoria, and enhanced well-being.
I call it Zen.
I am the soft, glowing, center of the universe.
Come destroy me.
You can try, I dare you.
Captivating is what you were.
Intriguing is what you were.
An enigma is all you are.
These wings do not make me a monster,
They give me the one thing you can never have.
Freedom.
So come fly with me.







