When I come crawling back with blood on my fingers, will you still want to see me? When you read the words that flow from my mind at 2 am when everyone else is gone, will you still want to take me in your arms? We could be together, but these feelings just won’t shift, so either you pull me close, or I go. The thrill of the chase- the taste for what reality never seems to bring- we should know better, but hell, why start now. In the palm of my hand, there’s a war just for us. In the bottle of beer that sits in the middle of the road outside your house, there’s a dream of what we could be. When I close my eyes, I see a line of cheerleaders that look just like your sister, and you know how much I like your sister, don’t you? So when I’m drinking, and one cigarette follows another, these cheerleaders dance just for me. They throw their arms around and thrust their hips, and when I tell them to, they get on their knees and praise me like a movie star or the king of pain I am. There’s no need telling what happens next, but as each one does a line of coke from a different part of my body they take me to the brink and when I shout and scream and stutter it’s your name that dances on my lips because despite it all you’re the only woman I’ve ever wanted. So would you kindly scrub the blood from my skin as I tell you about the things I’ve seen? How it was only yesterday when I was drunk on Jim Beam stealing books from the local library when I saw some guy having his hands cut off before being doused with petrol and set alight in the bus shelter outside. And how the day before when I was stalking the streets downtown, I saw some hooker being stripped naked and made to perform sex acts on a dog only to have her throat cut on the cold asphalt as the moon watched from above. The world is a dangerous place, babe, and it’s not getting any better. This rainbow you keep chasing- it just doesn’t exist, so why not grab me another beer while I scrawl down what I’ve seen? Why not sit with me until I’m done? After all, we both know what comes next, don’t we?