I know that you love me. It's as sad as it is true
because even though I want it, it's not something I can do.
I can love you with my hands, but never with my heart,
it's a twisted kind of loving, that I've made into an art.
I can make you cry my name, until it's branded in your mind.
Although it is unholy, I promise it's divine.
My voice will stalk your memories. My kiss will haunt your lips.
The ghost of a touch, tormenting your skin, left by my fingertips.
A warning wrapped in velvet, sugar coated sin,
the threat of your heart breaking, doesn't stop the want within.
And even though I warn you, it won't make you go away
because despite the fact of things I lack, you still want to stay.
Yes it's selfish, to say the least, but I can't say that I care.
This loneliness of the flesh is more than I can bare.
So listen to me closely, to my siren's sultry song,
I only need this one night, to feel like I belong.
I'm sorry that you love me, and that it's something I can't return,
but come to me, and I'll show you how it feels to truly burn.
When I go, there is one thing I shall both take and leave
The gift of never loving again that was bestowed on me.