Unless you know whom I responded to, this will not make much sense. -soft laugh- This though was a response to someone's poem.

Tug my strings,
one by one.
Capture eyes till heart is rung.
Slowly drown, feasting saint.
Pleading for a taste of hate.
Make me dance, words that slip,
through my mouth as if some trick.
Find that place in my heart,
place in which to tear apart.
Tell me lies make me weak,
Absinthe in the words you speak.
Onyx depths thine eyes shatter,
draining from me all that matters.
Take thy time make me wait,
Lure me in this wicked state.
Crimson line, across my lip,
possess me in little sips
Play thy game, play it well.
For this puppet all but fell.
Marionette, you do say.
But of course, that’s why I stay.