Play With Fire.

Smile. No, don't smile.
You become much too beautiful for that, too beautiful for me to escape. But then again, do I really want the escape? Because honestly, I believe I'd much rather stay trapped within the harmony that lies in your arms and smile. But then again, I've always shied away from honesty; I dance to the beat of my lies. [Lies about you.]

I wish your name would just float away from mind. But no, it won't. It still has the perfect ability to roll off my tongue with tenderness. [I hate it.] I could scream at you in pathetic desperation, but it doesn't matter - I'd apologize anyway, so it's really no use.

Line after line of uselessness, written upon a page. Will it ever really change anything, I ask? No, because I can't bear for you to grace your mind on it. Your eyes will never cross this screen, they'll never touch the truth. I simply cannot handle it, I simply cannot handle [you]. Because you burn me and you never notice. And I can't wrap myself around the playfulness of your fire, only to get third degree burns and a broken heart. So excuse me if I wish to protect myself. [For once.]

Yes baby, your smile burns me.
Along with your fire.
So maybe you could turn down the fire a little bit, and maybe frown a little more.

October 1, 2008
(c) Stephanie Lynn