On L - - e
People talk about love like it's
bubblegum on the tip of your tongue
a hit from a cool new drug
the chorus in your favorite pop song
But it's more like
hydrochloric acid for your cotton candy souls
it's a five inch drill bit through my left collar bone
it's five hundred flood lights, after a dim room
it's fire sparked by the friction between my blood and the walls of my veins as it races through my body at the speed of sound
a lightning lullaby that burns my ears
and some still wonder what reason I have to fear
n.a.







