When she loves, she loves like crazy.
Her aura will entrap you.
Lingering on your lips for weeks,
blankets of the early morning dew.

When she is hot, shes's hot,
smoldering a hole into your soul.
She is the embers of your fire,
the smoking end of the pistol.

And when she's cold, she is cold.
Hypothermia running in your veins.
Migrains, the scars of bloodstains remain,
from her hail on my windowpanes.

So when she loves, she loves like crazy.
Smelling of rain and daisy,
Shes sugar on the rim,
and when unloved, you shall go crazy.

-LaurenAshley



© LaurenTarabori