I'm a ****** rose,
I'm deathly nightshade,
I'm angry poison ivy,
And my vines have seemed to strangle
everything else that tried to grow--
loving me might just **** you.

But maybe you like suffocation,
the taste of sweet poison on
lips that have spoken nothing but
infallible sin,
it is fated, written in the very way
you submit yourself to the storm
that I am.

If anything, there is one thing that I've learned:
as much as daisies are pretty little things,
you're not gonna find one that would make you
do all the crazy things I could make you do.