Dedicated to a psycho

She drove with a limp
He was preoccupied with his occupation
She had that "bitch I will stab you" kind of smile
And switchblade hips to go with it
He was always working it to the bone
She complained of always being lonely
He was romantic but broken
And couldn't seem to keep the ink flowing
She was a tragedy in his poems
And he was too scared to let go
So he stopped writing
He stopped expressing
He became a clay mold
Settling in for settling
The less he resisted the less she could separate
The him from the he that she wanted to take
And freeze
And thaw
And cook
And eat
Out in the cold bare feet
This is getting old and he's scared finally
She was more street smart
If it wasn't obvious
He was just straight heart
She carried an inner rage that she kept caged up
He held the key that set that beast free even when beauty was in makeup
The wake-up screams and night terror dreams became a plague
Besieged on every night of sleep missed
Every minute spent hiding under sheets and blankets
Away from her demons
Away from the she that was her that split into 2
A better half of love and the other part abuse
When love got sent running without any shoes
And he fucked up again and relit spent fuses
That's when the blues would play their riot tune
On salted caramel skin now the hue of violet bruises
Innocence lost in a love triangle between himself and both of she
When the going got tough he had to learn to rough it
And at least try to find some meaning in the suffering
There was nothing left
Except pets and material possessions
Holding them together
An acidic adhesive that sickened every season with painful memories of being physically beaten until he couldn't scream anymore
Emotionally chopped up and getting cops involved when her public displays became dangerously out of sorts
She was graced with borderline personality disorder
He was the apex of her rage and She craved his organs
His insides
The origin of His soul was set for dinnertime
With 2 plates
One for her
And one for she...