Crime is What I Call It

Crime is What I Call It
I’m sitting here, lost in thought,
remembering the times I fought
with the hate I wish to savor,
but somehow, you have my favor.
I’m Not ignorant or incompetent;
I know that you’re Not heaven sent.
Distortion is what you do best,
but, truth be told, I am impressed
with some unknown alluring feature.
Seductive Slut, I’m Not a creature
without wants and longing,
which you fulfill by just prolonging
the time it takes you to say No.
Covetable Cutie, how can I slow
the process of my degradation
from human being to brute creation
that your unforeseen magnetism has caused?
I wish to hate, but then I’m paused
in my convictions upon seeing your face.
You’re Nothing to me when I try and trace
the history I have attempted
to create between us, until I’m tempted
with the beauty I canNot place
on anything but my disGrace.

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