I need no introduction.
I am seduction.
I lead you astray,
I let you play.
I bring satisfaction.
I need dedication.
I am Eve.
I am Don Juan.
I am Casanova.
I am neither male nor female.
I am ****** emancipation.
I am all that you want and more
Hear me moan,
better still hear me roar!

Tracing the outline of your scars
Is like reading your soul.
The stories they can tell.
Just more parts to your whole.
Never cover them,
Do not be ashamed
Your scars show the truth
Of life filled with love and pain.
They are a part of you,
What makes you truly whole
I'll trace the outline of each scar
To better understand your soul.

Bitter is the taste of regret.
I know, regret is tattooed on my heart.
Like a bayonet every time I catch a thought of you.
My breath catches, my face freezes, my mind decays
back to our days, when,
I held a flaming torch, you held a match!
I look back, you probably don't remember the girl that made you
her world.
Felt possessed just at knowing you.
Hated the fact that she was too much of a coward to let you know,
that friendship was not enough.
You were put in a box, lid on tight, but you crawl to me
every night.

I dread looking at what you are now,
I bet your silhouette is the same, but your contents have changed.
Am I in a box of your regrets?
It's ok I know the answer.
I just torture myself as it's better to feel pain than nothing at all.
Is she as funny as me?
Is she as happy as I once was?
I bet you have kids. I don't. I won't.
I'd like to reset my regret, but life won't let me.
Bitter is the taste, bitterness grinds at my epithet.
I lay my head down in dread knowing that I fled.
A wretch full of regret.
But, before you open my box of regrets tonight, remember,
*Always kiss me goodnight.