You’ve got me trapped.
Got my body mapped.
Hands like sin,
when our bodies are skin on skin.
You’re an addiction,
your love a sweet affliction.
You’re the air I breathe, but you’re polluted.
You being good for me could be disputed.
You’re a poison, flowing through my veins,
but your love has left it’s stain.
Your lips make me burn with desire,
but our love seems to be fenced in with barbed wire.
I can’t love you without hurting,
to most it’s a little disconcerting.
But I don’t know which is worse,
because not being able to love you would be a curse,
but a blessing in disguise
because I know eventually our love will be my demise.
And I’m wondering what to do,
but all I can hear are your words, *“Baby, I’m bad for you”