A Cute Face and a Thousand Knives

So much metaphorical blood.

She's got those eyes man,

They say...

She's got it all figured out.

Probably actually written down somewhere.

She's got the lips that know their match.

I know they have matched with many but none have ever stayed.

I picture mine there often.

Bad Jimmy. Bad. Let's keep these thoughts PG

She's got this air about her,

Confident ignorance.

So sure of herself but unsure of everyone and everything around her.

Her hair is a testament to that. 

She definitely knows who she is.

But Him. He's got no clue what the F**K he is doing.

I clench my fists in absolute rage every time the thought of him enters my mind.

I don't know how credible the information may be.

But word on the street is, he's taking that angel for everything she's worth. 

The forbidden word has passed through those lips that I wish I could call mine.

Love.

He's a cheater.

Allegedly.

Still the thought that I can't have her and he has her while throwing it away.

What kind of bullshit world is this.

I know it's only a matter of time before she's open.

Did I mention I'm a faraway admirer.

Oh I've talked to her a few times...

But nothing major. 

I doubt she knows I exist.

But every time my heart beats, it is accompanied by a yearning feeling.

I want to quell those years welling in those all seeing eyes that she doesn't yet see.

I want to kiss those lips who have yet to find their match and feel that spark.

I want to be within that confident air and hold her in my arms when she's falling apart.

I want to be with her.

Simple enough?