Description
I wish I wasn’t drawn to you,
Like the proverbial moth to a flame.
Knowing you may entrance me.
Consume me.
Destroy me.
Both cautions and excites me.
And excitement,
She’s one hell of a drug.
You said you’ve lost your spark for lust,
Yet you feel like one to me.
And I’ve always liked to play with fire.
Once burned, twice shy.
More silence to read between the lines.
I’ve played the part you cast for me,
And didn’t find it to my liking.
So I passed upon your offering
Of a tarnished soul for a shiny thing.
And now I am left pining
For a moment found in passing.
Wishing it was meant for me,
And wondering if there is one
That is meant to be.
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