We're fiction as long we're not within grasp
My diction requires your palm on my crown
Your friction may just feed me benediction.


The heart's jurisdiction is a fickle contraption
A not so subtle crucifixion nor constriction
Ensued when I fought against interdiction

You've become my addiction, my mental preoccupied obsession.
A depiction of dereliction's eviction.
Never again will there be remission's nonfiction.