Dirty Things

I kinda of,
Sort of,
Want the words
To tell the real
Behind our worlds;

How we fold and hide,
Never telling all...
Never telling all,
Because it is a sinful tall-tail,
We all reduce
To the secret door so small,
Locked away
In that only place-

The dark side,
Paints nights,
Where dirt under nails almost seems to stain into us...
Where sins feel dirty,
A dirt you can not scrub away...

Where even love has it's scary,
As sometimes it can take and take us...
Until the good is lost in the dark side
Of it all...
The fall,
Between Him and Her...
Or them, and they...

Sinking in abyss' just to stay
Right there,
In the busy of it all...

'Til somebody,
And something,
Truly falls.

The dark nights,
Where we secret the unthinkable,
And deal with those shadows the next day..
Where when everything is going phenomenally,
We fear the day is just there,
Any moment now,
Where it will all be taken away...

And do we,
Us dirty things,
Really deserve that God,
That Good,
In the dark nights,
Where we drawer God away,
And let the conspicuous play,
With our lives,
And out sights,
Our heartbeats,
And Rouletted games..?

Dark
Where blood is on the hand of thieves...
And simple innocents like me,
Go out and play,
With the devil's maids...

And then,
And then,
There's the morning.

Shades off, the next day..
Walk off,
Heart off...

Just a little off,
As I'm searching for the stains,
That seem to have left
Residues behind.

I want to tell the truth of our nights.
Shady.
Walking lines.
Heels and lashes,
And dark in their eyes...

As innocents like me,
Come out and play..

And seduced,
We find,
Our kind.