You're the subject
of a certain sick interest,
a fascination of my mind
that I should undoubtedly detest;
one sin infested bullet
that's wandering and aimless -

and its in my dark dreams, I realise,
only the very shameless
part of me can fulfil this desire,
and to say that I wouldn't have you
is to say that I'm not a liar,

for the resistance I'm putting up
to your distraction,
to this warped sense of magnetism,
and overpowering attraction,
is growing shorter and shorter -

I should cut you away,

but as they say, blood is thicker than water.