Your Vice White Hands

Could this be a love so right?
Or are you a parasite
Only you, only I
My words flipping fluttering, sadly denied
Words once sweet, turn to sour

Loving hate, humbling power
Thoughts and questions throughout my mind
Intimidation, manipulation, you keep me confined
The depression is poison
With my soul mates triumphant emotion

Once lovers so sweet
Our final kiss becomes obsolete
Your vice white hands unleash their grips
The fabric of our affair ultimately rips
Sweet serenity, absent of noise

This is something I will rejoice
No more will I speculate it
Something that shouldn't be replicated
A kiss to my hand, that brings such delight
It must be a love, a love so right.