Thoughts tangled in passion's red locks,
Paranoid by the sound of you're breathing,
Feeling as if I were being stalked,
Love nibbles at my ankles viciously as if teething.
Barefoot on a glass covered street,
Blood trickling from the wounds on my feet,
Seepage of tears slip down my rosey cheeks,
Into the house and onto the floor my crimson leeks.
Exhausted from the constant consequences of my actions,
And the various bite marks from my every attraction,
Where's my vision without the blur,
Where's the affair without the murder?
I'm missing something even when it's close,
No need at all to use my angelic voice,
Let the devil use his own mouth to expose,
If this is what you call making your own choice?
