I Wish I Had Been Wrong About You

Your mind was a grenade. Your lips were swiss army knives Cutting mine and for some god forsaken reason I learned to love the taste of my own blood Your hands were blisteringly hot metal that held my jaw as if it was your most prized possession I thought that was love I felt at home in your hands but you were just stamping me so that I could never forget you. But who could forget their safe house? You looked at me and your eyes held me hostage. I couldn’t leave you You were my weapon of choice But this wasn’t love This wasn’t destruction.