#bad romance

gofloresgo:

Lo que te hace bien, nunca sobra. Nunca es una perdida de tiempo, es un respirito. El mío, definitivamente tiene que ver con bailar.

My

starlight in a bottle boy,

burning up from the inside.

My beloved supernova.

Finally come to end it all?

Finally going to let us rest?

Solar flare,

don’t you dare

burn

our house

down.

Time can only

heal the entry wound of the

poison barb

you left inside me:

rotting love,

festering longing -

purple toxin living in my

blood.

Your hand in

my hand,

but

time struck and

you stumbled —

down,

down,

down —

oh,

were our shattered knees

and

scraped hands,

blood-tinged teeth —

were they worth it?

(Was it worth it to

clasp

our hands

so tightly that

one circle, two —

rings of fire,

surrounding us both

forever?)

You love that little blade:

cradle it’s handle oh so gently.

Sing it soft songs to sleep.

Warm it’s metal with your rest laden body.

You love that little blade -

even when it cuts.

Oh,

sweet memory,

the icy blade between my

bones.

Oh, sweet love,

the ailment lingering in my

blood.

Oh, sweet agony,

burning through my

lungs.

Oh, sweet lover,

lost from me

forever.

Oh, sweet sadness:

eternal companion and

penance.

And he saved you from

disaster and ruin,

your beautiful fire-starting boy.

The flames he lets lick your

salt-soaked remains

don’t change that.

Many times,

he saved you.

Many times.

(It only takes once for

destruction

to lay waste.)

(It only takes

forever for a

heart to break.)

Carved your name into my

cold bones

and was stunned when you showed yours:

pristine.

Something tender,

something sweet;

loveliness found in

rotten meat.

I opened my arms to comfort you

and

you went for my throat with a snarl.

Monsters need love, too

(but only on their terms).

I’m so tired of this

heartache

wrapped in

barb wired love.

Drink my daydreams of

us

from my

shivering

belly button.

Let me clasp my hands around you and

hold your

venomous maw

against my womb.

Beloved betrayer.

Erstwhile naysayer.

Dearest love,

I am

devoted

to you and your

damnation.

That poison from that cracked rock -

I drank it, too.

I drank it, too.

Lick the salt from my eyes

and

kiss the copper from my lips -

embrace me one last time,

beloved.

Sup on my sorrow and

drink me dry.

I would let you

bury your dagger

of

deceit and accusations,

as long as you did it

while

you held me

one

last

time.