You feed me love on a golden spoon and - just as I open my mouth - you take it away and leave me with nothing. But you are merciful enough to leave behind crumbs for me to pick up, so I take what I can get - I devour the tender bits and pieces of what I hope are acts of requite.
(You make it seem so damn easy.)
One thing I've always been good at is knowing when to leave, but you keep me hanging by a thread, hoping to heavens that I'm not dreaming. (If I were, I'd simply not wake.)
I hand you my heart and let you break it - it was only ever yours anyway.
(I am digging my own grave and lining it with lilies.)
I don't know how to miss you without getting hurt.
I bite into my yearning like Eve's apple, aware that a price must be paid, but I don't care - I don't give a damn if all deals with entities end in tragedies because this is worth it.
You are worth it.