Vodka in a water bottle

And acting cheap like that motel

Or maybe we were finally real.

There are too many versions of brokenness

Of what we should be

In all her ecstasy

With that cigarette hanging from her finger tips

Is that your kind of beauty?

God, it is attractive

Purple skin and bleeding flesh

Still smirking at the coming effects

A journal filled with eloquence

The flame ignites her eyes

"I'll breathe it slow, the drug store on

5th and Temple is probably closed"

And damn deception is so thrilling

She'll wait on that bench,

Waiting to thrill you.