I can't help it,
I love the broken ones;
the ones with a piece of them
missing from their heart, their soul.
I love the ones who need
to be sewn back together;
piece by piece, I want to fix them.
I want to sooth their aching soul;
I want to spend the nights
kissing the scars that litter
their body.
I want a misfit,
I want the boy everyone
else rejects because
he don't fist the
status quo.
I want him to drink,
smoke,
slice open his veins.
The boy everyone tells me
to stay away from.
I want to fix him,
I want to mend him;
I want to show him my scars;
show him we're not so different
after all.
We're not so alone
after all.