I would be all the glue in the world to put his broken pieces together.
The right Mr. Wrong.
That makes my heartbeats quicker and with eyes that provide the liqour.
The man who is casually late and dressed to kill at all times.
That man that everybody hates an awful lot, but does not have a reason to.
The man who loves like he loves me.
Who is more than a friend and less than a lover.
I would tell him I am bad news, I am just bad news.
He would tell me that he is trouble, that he is no good.
The one to unfold me and read me like an open book.
I want the player who would change the game for me.
Who could travel across the globe and always come back to me.
I would secretly be the air he breathes.
He would secretly be the last thing on my mind.
A fallen prince with a bow-tie tattoo who cries on the kitchen floor.
I just do not care for the simple ones..
And karma is a bitch.
Ena send me this picture, I have to admit.
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