Irked by the stale life I am in
A bland dish seeking ample spice
The intersection of our roads was exhilarating
A new-born daredevil shall not think twice

Perilous was the color of your eyes
The way your gaze froze me in place
Flames previously nonexistent began to rise
And desires now asked to feel my embrace

Dangerous was the shade of your plump lips
When you speak, the way they curve
Electric bolts pierced through my fingertips
Then infiltrated my every vein, every nerve

Treacherous was the sound of your voice
The way curses became a pleasing melody
A single syllable balked all perturbing noise
Enticing me into your wicked sorcery

Lethal was how you skillfully kiss
The way it sets ablaze the surface it meets
My formation of thoughts have gone amiss
The settling insanity is now who greets

Murderous was your hand's every touch
The way your fingers danced on my skin
Dull-looking blades were deemed to do not much
But yours were sharp enough to slice my soul within

Pestilent was how you wrapped yourself around my body
The way your frame is fitted to mine
Tremendous waves devour me completely
And I drown, though not in brine

Deadly was how you wanted to play
The way you wanted to love me
From my ever-so-monotonous life, I have gone astray
My life is the price; I'll pay it fully

"Your Mac battery is running dangerously low."
It made me laugh that they used the word dangerously.
Just how dangerous could a low computer battery be?
Stall your Netflix watching or your Pinterest spree.
But then I thought about skype calls cut off as a father overseas is watching his baby being born.
Or a start of the wedding march as the bride in white stands adorn.
I started to think about how something innocent can become the most dangerous thing in the world. How the usage of the medium decides the power it stores.
Like a Mac battery being dangerous, another thing which is not to toy.
Three words put together and said in one accord.
"I Love Pizza." is nothing to remark.
But
"I love you." can start a dangerous.
Dangerous.
Spark.

I always make friends with homeless people. Maybe it’s the *** stained teeth and friendly personalities that draws me too them. When I’m in town you can find me with laughing people, who hold nothing to their being by the end of the day. I love them. They’re so happy, grateful and remind me of everything I want to hold in my heart. They are the sun, surrounded by dark clouds but still radiating through the grey. The public of Surrey in their white designer tops and overpriced jeans will never realize this. Call me a sucker but I would give everything to these people. The friendlier they are the more they deserve it. They always seem to be the ones who have been in their situation for the longest and have tried every method of getting the necessities we indulge on. The saddest, and grittiest are usually new to their world. It’s such a cool world mind. All of them sing punk music, create such beautiful art and tell the most interesting woven stories. They are deep. Very deep. They have been to one end and back, up and down. Being surrounded by these people can be dangerous at times mind. One day I could be engulfed by a dark crowd. By dark I mean, what parents and young teens imagine when they think about going out to the grungy parts of town; the stereotypical stench of creepy men glowing with peoples fear of them. Rapists, *** traffickers, hard-core drugs, drunk men breathing down your neck and pulling roughly on your arm. I’ve been kissed on the cheek by a drunken dark mess, but he soon got punched by another. They respect people consent, children and females of any age. I don’t care if it’s a sexist old age thing for men to feel protective over women. Women are the most scared when regarding this world. I was scared. It was only a kiss on the cheek but that could lead on to so much more if left to slide. That’s why he got punched. You don’t cross boundaries. It’s the same with any person; have or have not. At the end of the day, I find the characters with scruffy attire and a perfume of ****, cigarettes and beer more comforting and safer than those who breed Topshop, Topman, Hollister Apple and Urban Outfitters. I am the kid all parents would fear to let out on their own. And they should. I’m going to get myself in trouble one day, talking to strangers and hanging around gritty areas alone. But it’s better than when I used to shoplift. And anyway…I feel a lot happier after I hang round these people.

She severed the head of love's complacency
covering all I thought I'd discovered with a vice
like grip on a puzzling figuring out of normalcy
refusing any defining by turning pose in a trice

into fusions of fiery burns of my assumptions
until she was nowhere but there at every turn
churning the pressure with neat beats of passions
with valves registering a blistering alarm

a companion unhinged by dimensions dark tinged
not a snake charming woman nor a venomous fang
yet poison was taken with a cringe and a change
into a Hyde or a Jekyll I cannot decide things

When my grasps fall between all her parts half revealed
I gasp out of hunger pang eagerness to feel
slender slinking through fingers and thumbs unsolved
as a friend or a foe I can't know if she's real

Beyond physical perception I cannot be certain
because of fantastical attractions in legion
gone viral in tongues insubstantial past vision
yet assembled in ways which portend a contagion

******
(noun)
1. any undesirable or troublesome plant, especially one that grows profusely where it is not wanted
2. a cigarette
3. ungainly person or animal

the weeds in the garden,
though sometimes unwanted,
sprout from the dirt yet full of life,
little in worth, yet lovely.

the weeds that we smoke,
dangerous to our health,
tasting bittersweet like memories
yet brings us short-lived ecstasy.

the **** of my life,
he was nothing but trouble
that brought about mirth
in my too-perfect garden;
he frustrated the people
who tended to me,
growing back into my life
every time they plucked him out.

unwanted but lovely.
dangerous but lively.
he was my whole definition of ****.

I know I am / the thick smoke rolling off fires / but treat me like / the purest substance / to have ever entered your lungs

I loved him carefully; from afar I liked to watch him grow into the man I knew today.
I loved him carefully; I watched his moods making sure the outrage stayed as far away from me as I could.
I loved him easily... It wasn't hard when his green eyes watched your every move and his lips held pretty words that danced through my ears.

But he loved me recklessly; he came at me with full speed ahead on marriage and lack of trust.
He loved me dangerously; so much that became afraid to love me at all for fear I would be his all.

I loved him carefully and it was too easy to fall apart when he walked away.
He loved me recklessly and it had become to dangerous for him to keep me around.