You were never and old soul, your blood was made of neon piss bullets sticking from your bones. With fiery hair and eyes of light green stiletto schemer supreme you got away with most everything. They couldn't see beyond those car crash curves but I could feel your heavy soul and deep blue scars layers of armor double bolted heart. You let me peek in once or twice... that room of plastic flowers and wounded butterflies... You tossed me aside when I patched your wings... After all you were addicted to bad boy indifference I paid too much attention to keep you forever... I pray you made it to heaven my one-winged butterfly.