If it runs in the blood then I feel bad for the one who gets bitten by the bug that's just had its fill of me.

If sadness is a drug then it does well to disguise itself as selfishness masquerading as sympathy.

Drinking brings out the sociopath.
Madness takes flight with an odd number of wings.

Tell me again.
I beg of you, please;
What do you feel when you think of me?