She's batshit crazy. And she's all mines. My hands possessive just to claim this undying taste of her. Just to pin her like a wrestler to the wall. My fingertips graze her neck. Every breath a gasp. There's never a wait or what if they see. She just a smiles yet giggles. Just alot pretty and a whole lot of crazy. That nobody but me sees. Her affections are vindictively sweet. Yet she slowly adores cotton candy like poison almost unconditionally. Sultry and sensual. This very image is like poetry. The way she arch her spine like she knows she can take everything or anything. This kiss of death becomes my something sweet. Just a beloved burning Rose that thorns only sweetly choose to corrupt me. Yet I see her closed doors and my emotions grasp her knuckle deep. Finger looking good kinda sticky sugar. She taps always just to accept defeat. To know her madness completes me. The way Batman or the joker probably wish they could be her everything. But I just got a infectious scourging bone aching chilled fever like ivy. Soon as I see her it's spreading. It's alive! And like Frankensteins monster I don't know whether to alive or die. Yet there's this version of me that sees her as a chain and Ball. The other just simply provocative paradise. Yet she's batshit crazy I know but am I too?! Falling for the demon mistaken for a angel. And possibly everyone's ivy how could you?! But what can I say I'm no angel. And neither is tonic on the rocks. Yeah she's my wildflower just wet like a die hard giving river as only for me she wants to bloom. Just anywhere in my head just candy rain madness I can't figure out if she's hot or cold. Winter or summer? Or October or just June. All I know is in this bittersweet abyss. In my mind in my flutter I want you.