Messy hair and black clothes

Bright eyes behind cigarette smoke

Flashing lights and him

A silhouette of his pain

He showed us the raw parts of him

And underneath his bones was a deep sadness

That kept him from loving himself

White lines and red eyes

Drinking elixir from dark bottles

The cure I wish to be

He never realized how good he is

How beautiful and magnificent his mind is

His voice holding eloquence and meaning

Screams and greedy hands

Desperate souls that cry his name

“Don’t you mind?”, He asks

I want to hold his face in my hands and tell him that I do

Leather jackets and tattoos

Symbols of a heartbreaker

But he’s so much better than that

So my question for him is, “Don’t you mind?”

Broken souls and sad boys

Who cannot love themselves or feel loved by someone else

Because their minds are too rare and brilliant to be understood

(I do not take credit for this photo nor do I have the original photographer’s information to share)