Beware

I won't make it easy on you.
I'll be mean and I'll push you away. The harder you'll try, the harder I'll get back at you.
I'll be nice sometimes and compliment you and I'll look at you with all the hope and vulnerability I hide deep inside, but then I'll backlash at you and try to hurt you like you've never been hurt before. It is to myself that I'm directing all that anger and pain, because you make me feel. And for that I must make you pay.
I'll play with your hair and bite your lips and make you want me like you've never wanted anything in your life. I'll be your opium and you'll wonder at times if I am normal. I'm not. I wear the scars of a past love that's carved so deep inside me that I sometimes cannot see through the thick blood of its wounds, the same blood that makes me go berserk on you whenever you get closer.
Don't be fooled by that. Inside there's a scared woman-child that feels too deeply, cares too deeply and doesn't want any of that. I reject my own nature during the day and embrace it during the night.
I'll go out and flirt and dance just to make you jealous, make you doubt I have any feelings whatsoever for you and you'll wonder if I ever let anybody get as close as I let you. You'll think at times that I'm a slut. You'll think at times that I'm easily manipulable. I'm neither of these.
I'm more scared than anyone you'll ever know of intimacy and affection because I crave it so desperately. I'm carved from the same blood and dirt my ancestors were, the ones that used to conquer whatever went their way.
I'm a fighter. I eat my fear alive and punch her in the throat til the bitch's so dizzy she doesn't know what hit her. I'll be your fall and your ascension.
Once you get to me, I'll be just like a wounded animal, always waiting for the next hit. I won't expect you to love me. I won't expect you to respect my vulnerabilities once you know them. I'll expect you to strike at any point cause I've been stained before.
I rejoice in that blood and lick it from my lips like a vampire turned cannibal.
I'll feast on you and make you go numb with the light and darkness that I keep inside, a talisman of long lost hopes and dreams.
I'll love you and if you'll see way beyond my self sabotaging techniques, we'll burn together like the flame at Christ's grave, united in our own pagan way to consecration.