Oh won't you play a little game?
Your life will never be the same
Please roll the dice and stoke my flame
I'll scar your back, you'll howl my name.

Let's not let rules get in the way
It's such an easy game to play
and baby, once it's underway
I'll lead your pretty heart astray.

I am temptation, wicked sin,
suggestion dripping from my skin,
dark secrets writhing deep within
my name a whisper on the wind.

I've torn so many souls to shreds
while hearts decayed and tears were shed,
delight would fill me as they bled
once exiled from my harlots bed.

So heed my warning, hold it true
then cast it ever far from view.
Take your turn, then when you're through
let me be the death of you.

Beware: Do not fall in Love with an artist.

An artist is definitely the most dangerous to fall into a relationship with.
You won’t even know you’re the exact facsimile of their work.

They will tear your heart to bits,
more than likely to generate a new showpiece.

They will watch your irises go from fields in bloom to dull skies,
and your black pupils go from metallic to charcoal.

They will be able to stroke your hair softer than a paintbrush,
and watch your little detail emerge from something pallid.

They will be able to memorize the structure of your face,
then round your cheeks and chisel your dimples into rock.

They will sing lightly the melody you’ve made,
as they cling to your torso as if a life source.

Do you see the danger?
For the love of god, beware.

I don't want to talk about school or how your last test went or any small talk for that matter

I want you to tell me about that new book you've gotten lost in or the way your father's voice shakes as he erupts in anger and blame for the third time that day

Tell me about the scar that's just above your left eyebrow and why a candle is your favorite metaphor

Show me the hidden parts of yourself and for you I might do the same