From My Heart, To Anyone

7

These hands are warm, caring,
but is that any use when you've gotten used to the cold?
He laughs at my jokes,
the laugh where your head falls back and your whole body smiles and your hair waves back and forth,
that kind.
He is good,
like a child with its innocence,
but I get high on the rush of bad;
So
So
Bad.
His mouth is clean
Pristine
Never mean
I like that I am letting myself be treated sweetly
but what's more;
I fell in love with your dirty words.
When I am by his side
I smell your cheap cologne,
strong and strange,
and I pretend not to shatter inside
when I kiss his lips and taste your mouth.
Because I know how this story will go
he will be a bandage
on the knife wound in my chest.
Bandages always fall off.