Here I am again. In a comfy jail cell with handcuff marks on my wrists from my earlier predicament Earlier tonight, I decided I wanted to take you out to one of my favorite bar's, but the thing about having a hot girlfriend is that every guy wants to either talk to you, or touch you.

It's not my fault I fought him, if he didn't want me to punch his face in he shouldn't have tried touching you. It's simple really.

I'm always mixed up with something illegal, or as I like to call it, fun. Whether it be drugs, possession of illegal firearms or whatever the fuck the cops like to call it.

So no, this is not my first rodeo. Or jail cell I guess. I only have to be here overnight which is amazing because I can't bear the thought of you being all by yourself. I love drugs, sure, but my latest addiction comes in a 5'2 package and looks exactly like you.

I never wanted you mixed up in all the shit I'm a part of, but did you listen? No. But I should've known that by now. You care, and when you do, you do it wholeheartedly. It probably isn't right to be corrupting you with my life.

But there you are, sitting on a bench right outside of my temporary cell with your pretty eyes closed

"Hi, baby"

I greet you, waking you up. My voice was a bit hoarse like it always is in the morning except I didn't get the luxury of a 'good nights sleep'.