The Angel of Light

Lying in her bed, listening to her talk about some guy she knows, and his insecurities, his perverted need to exploit young dope whore.

I love her, her words are dark, but her spirit is total light, her soul is pure love, like a child. But she knows pain, pain like no one can imagine.

She doesn't think I'm real, her paranoia keeps her guarded against any and all possible threats. And who wouldn't percieve me as a threat?

Her skin is soft, her lips full and soft, and her brown eyes are warm and remind me of a home I'm not sure I ever had.

She's too pure for this world, too full of love to be mine alone. She held me close last night and asked me to promise her not that I wont leave her, ironic because we both know it'll be her that leaves me.