I take crumpled paper to write how our eyes danced in that miserable stare. I have never seen a mind this rare, and I know you'll want the chains of my solitaire. Do not hear the allegations about my latest affairs; they're not playing fair with my good girl glare. You already filled my pages with lovely despair; now my arrows you'll have to bear.
I hang from your mystery until all my broken moon glistens. For hunting you, I won't be guilty because soon my lips you'll be kissing, but now you're thrifting from my script and my efforts you're making misty. Why don't you accept my controlling submission?
You leave me standing on the dance of my desire like a trapped admirer screaming for you in the crossfire. But I can't help putting you higher because I'm a buyer of burning briars, and you're my eternal supplier. I don't care how much you beg for me to retire; for your heart, I'll always conspire.
My love crimes don't you wanna witness? Can't you see that I am your delusional little princess? I'm a foolish, omniscient narrator and Eros's favorite degenerate. I kill myself with serenades in your parades because in reason I can't promenade since I ate the pomegranates. There's no dawn for those who on razor blades crawl, and I'm about to create a necklace with them all as I see my blood dripping from your jaw. So, am I victimizing myself properly now?
