I met the most intriguing man
almost as insane as I am
full of rage and self hate
could have been the perfect mate

once held so tight in his arms
safe from any harm
danger hides in many forms
to his whiskey I became worn

now I think about those crazy days
and oh how the ways
that we weaved romantic lies
doubt hidden behind our eyes

everything went downhill fast
way to intense to last
poetry our only way to express
how everything became a mess

I write this sonnet not as apology
definitely not for sympathy
But to stop the rage and hate
my moon and stars said it wasn't fate

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