It was always those boys
on the edge of life and death
teetering with wicked grins
at the snake pit below them
It was always those boys
with nothing to lose
masks of fearlessness
willing to do anything
willing themselves to laugh
at razor blades
pressing into their throats
It was always the wounded ones
piercing stare
sad boys, conflicted and self contradicting
the more complicated, the more attractive
or so some thought
the ones who knew what it meant to be fully alive
since they lived so close to death
on purpose
it was always the misunderstood boys
walking thin lines on the edges of respectable society
seizing each moment and sucking it dry
then discarding the empty shell with a careless toss
in pursuit of more
it was always those boys
hungering for a love they could not fathom
craving comfort they could not imagine
it was always those boys
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