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Story Title, Author
​Hers is a spirit of kindness,
Mine is one of noire;
Hers are hands of making,
Mine are made for breaking;
And yet, despite my taken action,
I can’t escape her fatal attraction.
I cling to you for dear life;
I’ll be your leech,
Dig in like a knife;
You seem to relish my fangs,
Smiling under my strife.
You’re going places, love;
I’ll be scrambling in the dirt;
You’ll have your dove;
I’ll just get you hurt;
So pass me by;
In time you’ll find,
When you look up to the sky,
I won’t be on your mind.
My glass doll,
I want to hold you tighter;
But you’re delicate, my love, Taboo;
And if I hang on to you,
You might break, and leave me too.
Always had intense eyes;
I’m a monster by day,
Disappointment by night;
Leave me darling,
Before my roots grow tight.
I’m cruel to myself;
It’s all I’ve known;
Seems I have a talent,
For being alone;
So darling I’m sorry,
If I’m seeming far;
Just let me go,
And pick us a star.
I always have this itch,
This need to write;
So sorry my darling,
If I’m being terse;
I’m just saving my pain,
For one more verse.