Burn

On the first page of our story the future seemed so bright, then this thing turned so evil. I don't know why I'm still surprised; even angels have wicked schemes, and you take that to new extremes. But you'll always be my hero, even though you've lost your mind. Now there's gravel in our voices, glass is shattered from the fight. In this tug of war you'll always win, even when I'm right. Because you feed me fables from your hand with violent words and empty threats, and it's sick that all these battles are what keep me satisfied. So maybe I'm a masochist. I try to run, but I don't wanna ever leave, until the walls are going up in smoke with all our memories.

It's morning, you wake, a sun ray hits your face: smeared makeup as we lay in the wake of destruction. Hush, baby. Speak softly; tell me you're awfully sorry that you pushed me into the coffee table last night, so I can push you off me. Try and touch me so I can scream at you not to touch me. Run out of the room and I'll follow you like a lost puppy. Baby, without you I am nothing. I'm so lost, hug me then tell me how ugly I am, but that you'll always love me. Then, after that, shove me in the aftermath of the destructive path that we're on. Two psycopaths but we know that no matter how many knives we put in each others' backs, that we'll have each others' backs because we're that lucky. Together we move mountains; let's not make mountains out of molehills. You hit me twice, but who's counting? I may have hit you three times; I'm starting to lose count. But together we'll live forever; we found the youth fountain. Our love is crazy; we're nuts, but I refuse counselling. This house is too huge; if you move out I'll burn all two thousand square feet of it to the ground; ain't shit you can do about it. Because with you I'm in my fucking mind, without you I'm out it.