Honestly, he’s ruined it for all the others. No one can have me like he can. No one can be as perfect as he is. I don’t trust anyone but him. I question everyone’s motives and moves. I read between the lines and his are my favorite. He does not fit any mold or belong on any scale of one to ten Love. He is off the rector scale. He is full blown, bust your eardrums, bass. He is the pow to my boom boom pow. He is everything I didn’t realize I wanted. He is everything I never thought I’d need. He is the perfect ratio of asshole and gentleman, Heartless and heart felt. Heart of blackened gold .
He dresses my wounds and helps me see my scars. Sadly, I still let in the cruel intentions of others and continually come back to him with new wounds… With new scars I try to hide. But he sees them. He knows. He feels them. I want him and only him to fill them. I want him more than anything. One day I will come to him and he won’t have anymore dressing for my wounds and I will be left in a puddle of blood and try to stay alive. The Wild dogs will smell the blood and they will overtake me and leave me broken. Identity Mangled. I will ask him to see me but he won’t recognize any part of me.