He hands me a glass. Is it poison or wine?
With the white lies he feeds me, it just tastes divine.

I smell trouble, its sweet perfume.
I breathe in his power, and seal my own doom.

He fills my body so full of fire,
And burns the resistance I used to admire.

He doesn't seduce me, I bare him my chest.
He's holding a knife, and you know the rest.

I say "Please don't use me," in fact I implore it.
I just wanted his love, so I asked for it.

I lay down beneath him, and beg to be kissed.
His switchblade replies with that one final twist.

Morally wounded, I rise from his bed.
I try to live on, not knowing I'm dead.

He shovels my head so full of shit,
Reduced to submission, I don't mind a bit.

I read the rule book, he rewrites the game.
He wins the prize and says I'm to blame.

He breaks my heart as I try to restore it.
I just needed his love, so I asked for it.