Bullets from Paradise.

My words are healing, like a rose pressed against a cheek to intercept the tears.
My words are soft and secluded.
Don't change this pace. Don't change this face. I like to be liked. I don't mean to be mean.
Hold me before I say something stupid and ruin the both of us.
My words can be dangerous, shooting out like bullets and piercing everything they touch.
My words are deadly and my aim is flawless.
I never miss.
You don't know what it means.
You only think you do. 
We've come so far and we will fall even further.
Professionally poetic and properly pedantic or ruthless and retaliatory.
Submissive in my acceptance or barbarian in my defenses.
My passion doesn't stop at sweet and safe like it should.
It carries on and on into the voids of anger and off the cliffs of revenge.
I can't mitigate, only castigate myself and others.
We cry these beautiful diamonds and make each other rich.
But don't worry, my words are healing, like a rose pressed against a cheek to intercept the tears.
My words are soft and secluded.
Please don't change this pace.