All this time I thought you were an addiction.
Something my body needed, something my mind craved and something I personally desired but I was wrong. How could I be so wrong?
No my love, you're not an addiction. You are something much worsts, something much more evil and something more twisted. You're my own exclusive disease, created just for me. Let me tell you how you work...
You start off at the tips of my fingers, making your way up my arms until you get to my throat. You make me suffer. You make me gasp for air by limiting my breathing. Once you have me own my knees and barely able to breath you move to my heart. You wrap around it, tightening your grip on it until I clench my teeth in pain. As I'm left there moaning and begging...you're not done. You work yourself up to my brain. Once there you play with my buttons and make me think what you want me to think.
"You're the Devil with no apology.
You're hell with no heaven up above.
You're the taste of sweet agony...
Pure bliss to those you adore..."
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