Romantic Men

why are women attracted to me knowing i've got scars and a history of a felonious back ground forty year's past and my long, romantic nights? it's not the smooth words or the fake charm or the lonely whiskey, but maybe they see the edge in me and it turns them on like a switchblade in the dark. they want the hard part of the tree that is never soft, parting the bush, watching the mouth of the salamander open and go into the hole and not come out for hour's at a time. they want the dangerous and the broken, the ones who've seen it all and still stand tall on the cracked streets because the nasty clean ones are so goddamn boring. so they come to me, and i let them— what else is there for them to do?