"I told you not to touch me, now look what you've gone and done, killed yourself all over again."
My hands (that used to be the only weapon I had) are uncovered and laid out on him who is the only person I can kill and he comes back smirking and saying 'now my dear why don't we do that again?'
He's the only one that I let myself touch (the need to keep the many others alive keeps my gloves on tighter then needed) because I know each and every time that he will not end up like the others.
(the many others, I've lost count of all the people that are swirling around in my head. Pieces of them in me forever)
"As you already my dear, I tend to not give a rat's ass about what people tell me to do and go ahead and do what ever the hell I want to. And right then and there, with you and that stunning dress, I wanted to kiss you until I died. And I did just that."
I've know strange men all of my life (nightcrawler is just one of them) some of them have been brothers to me but a hand full of them have been lovers that see me more then the others and some that never really see me at all.
(and every one of you lovely people can guess who that one man is, the one person I could never see as a father figure)
"Fine, just don't go doing that all night long. We're out on a fancy dinner (which you said would be the best I've ever had in my whole life) and I don't want people staring at us."
"But babe, their already staring."
(that they were, eyes of dozens followed us around like we were a traveling act)
"At what, what a freak I am?"
"No my love, how lovely you look in that dress."
"Well, lucky you, Adam, lucky you."