Combine:
2 parts friend
with
1 part lover
and you'll get a very cliche recipe for disaster.
"Friend!" they'll say.
But they'll  be ****** if they don't make their mark on my not-so-celebate soul.
And I'll be ****** if I do it again.

I am a politician working my way through citizen after citizen.
"Friend!" I'll say, with gritted teeth.
Wanting nothing more than to knit them a sweater.
Bake them some cookies.

A pathetic darkness settles in my heart at this very moment for something that I never even had.
But that's just the surface. After all, who wants to bare their soul to a politician?