Bad boys with broken hearts and shattered souls,
With bruised knuckles and busted lips,
With walls so high, they touch the sky,
And plastic smiles painted on that doll like face,
And eyes clouded with misery,
And hazy from the alcohol,
Blurry from the salt and water leaking from them,
Fragile boys pretending to be tough men,
With their wooden swords and cardboard shields,
Fighting the world, fighting themselves,
Trying to find solace in another's arms but never staying long after the fun,
I can taste the wild side on your tongue,
Scared and brave,
Wicked and victim,
Smooth words dripping like honey from your lips,
Voice like velvet,
And laughter like the waves crashing onto the rocks,
Bitter yet addictive,
like coffee with no milk or sugar,
Pretty boy you are bad for me,
You are bad for you,
But that doesn't stop my craving for you.
YOU ARE READING
Of Battered Hearts & Bitter Coffee
PoetryEchoes from the murky depths of a dark, burning soul.
