A/N: Uhhh... I don't know what to say about this. It's pretty much random mind-barfing on the subject of Matt and Mello's relationship. And I totally didn't get the idea while eating lunch or anything.
Because that would be abnormal. -shifty eyes-
Blinded by passion, bruised lips crush
Amongst the crumpled sheets on the bed
In the dingy apartment in Los Angeles
Hair is fisted, a mess of burgundy and golden blond
Oftentimes pulling too hard, just to see if it is all real
Or just another thought floating around on
The astral plane
Scraping of skin with too-sharp fingernails
Clawing, and holding on as if they are all they have
left
A freckled nose in contrast with the once-smooth
Flesh of a burn victim, a sour, cruel
Burn victim,
A martyr to no one but himself
Tasting of smoke, of cancer, coupled with bitter chocolate
An all-too familiar taste in it's self, bringing back
Thoughts from childhood, nostalgia and memories
Namely, those of the first time
Troublemakers experimenting, or maybe it was love even then
As it was certainly love, now, but not love in
The traditional sense, the sense of faerie tales and
happily-ever-after
Nothing quite so beautiful, but rather their own brand
Consisting of guns and chaos and the drawing of blood
With teeth
And once it is all over, they lay, entangled in one another
Amongst the crumpled sheets on the bed
In the dingy apartment in Los Angeles
Heartbeats quickly dying down to the slow thumping
Like that of a bass guitar
Again, a mess of burgundy and golden blond
Splayed out across pillows, one half-asleep,
the other, the martyr, the victim of his own arson
Idly wondering how much time they've got
left.