She gave away the best thing for less,
as if Heaven spread its gates for a garage sale.

            "But will you tell?"

I'm moving slow...
Like a snail in my approach to her.
It's best if I-I pretended like I never knew her.
She had a prada purse that screams,
"I can only do worse!"
She treated that thing beating In her chest
like a curse.
With no clue how to cure it.
Her hobby was to only corrupt the purest.

So don't call me false
in my intentions to hesitate;
from the moment our eyes connected
I knew my fate.

              "But will you tell?"

I said,"what's your name?"
To her...
"you got this vibe that makes me levitate."
she retorts, "call me breathtaking
because I make men sufficate."

But who could breathe without her?
I'd give nothing less.
I said, "for you,
I'd gladly exchange all of the air in my chest.
because time grows in seconds.
I'd spend each one I saved on you."

She responds, "i'd watch the world burn
in exchange for the view."

So don't call me false
in my intentions to hesitiate;
she hit me with words I couldn't anticipate.

I could see her.        
                                   Pulse.           Thumping.
                The.
veins in her neck.

Forced me to put.       my.
           primal instincts.
                        In check.

She told me time is incorrect.
       Its numbered by seven.

Broken into seven second increments.

Seven days in the week.

Seven deadly sins.

Seven circumstances with no right words for,
so instead we say friends.

She insisted I guess her favorite sin,
I guessed,
she said I was correct,
and then she asked,
              
    " but will you tell?"

without getting Into detail:
she sealed the deal.
Even before she unbuttoned her blouse
-her smile-
I'd made my adulterous decision:
her attention and bare skin
was the wine she used
to wash away all my inhibitions.

"So listen,"
She says...
"In between heaven's gates
are seven indiscretions no one knows about,
that trade for the seven things
you'd never sell.
Tonight they're all yours
-if you want to savor them-
but only if you won't tell,

and again,

above all else:

If you pay for them."

-

I leaned toward it
that is where the road turned me
into a spare wheel

You haven’t disappeared, have you?
Leave me, your child, here
Abandon me again

I don’t want to your hear your excuses
You are dead to me.

Don’t come asking for forgiveness when you don’t feel the slightest remorse for your infidelity.
Don’t come home yelling at me for being a failure when you were the one that raised me this way.

I am not your daughter.
I am the person you blame for your mistakes.
Go ahead.
Let your anger out on me.

Because I don’t feel anything anymore.
I only feel pity
Pity for you.

How he tells her he loves her
Yet lies with another
Sad, sad lover
I see right through that cover