I think of you late at night, as I do blood courses through my veins, and my brain turns fuzzy, and my temperature rises, and i feel the familiar call of lust on my tongue.
I want you. Badly. Nothing, will stop me.
And though you and me have died a thousand deaths in our inescapable clutches from the other,
I still stalk you, like you are my prey.
I am desperate.
I am dying.
I am inculpable of my actions.
Each time i capture you, you burn me, you scald me, you tear me, you rip me, you score your name on my chest 17 times with a razor-blade until, now....?
It is just an open wound. For i know you will return.
I am not proud of this. You are of great shame to me.
And You, You come to me, You want me so badly but can't let yourself, and you die a thousand deaths in your mental battles, trying not to want me, and it weakens you each time, the love-me-yes, love-me-nots....
You hold out your hands to me, and I claw my nails into you.
You pull away, You have won, this time.
I have lost today
But i don't feel any pain, just a sweet faint trickle of a  memory, of you being here.
You are my drug, and i am addicted,
and it hurts,
but man,
you feel too **** good.