The word love (a four letter word that brings both heaven and hell) never seems to come to play these days, (days full of flight and fight) it barely reaches our lips but it's always there haunting the back of our heads, love, love, our love.
Our love that grows like a blooming flower (please don't step on it let it grow until it's wild) but all of the villains (with smirks that always die away when my hands find there helpless skin and let lose my own sicking smile as they become part of me).
They came tripping own there feet big strapping boys with guilt stricken faces, it's not you it's me, I love you but I love her more.
But him, still clinging to that little crooked smile that seems to grow bigger and sweet each and every single day, he comes fingers tracing skin that is screaming to be touched (kisses, stroked, anything) and says in a boyish voice (still untouched by the blood and the smirking Villains)
I love you, I love you so much, more then her and her and everyone in the world, Goddamnit I love you.
And all you can do is let your skin (fingers, toes, arms and legs) fill you up and let lose your first I love you too, sugar.