I am to blame,
For your shattered, broken heart.
The way I ****** with you,
Must have been an art.

I'm not boasting or bragging,
Though I am quite proud,
That through all of this,
I've not been around.

So disturbed,
So vile,
So disgusting,
And wrong.
But I lured you right in,
With ******* and a thong.

Maybe I don't have feelings,
That I'm imagining all of this.
Maybe I'm already dead,
And this is the hell I am bound in.

If only I could fix,
A broken heart,
With a warm mouth.
I'd be living without all the fault,
All the doubt.