There's a tangible sweetness in the air,
suffocating me when she passes by, 
like she takes the air in my lungs away from me, 
and she takes it for herself as a sweet pain courses through my chest.

How selfish. 

They ask why I stare too much,
like my eyes were magnets staring at the other half,
two opposite poles facing each other. 
And a smile appears, like an electric attraction, on my face,
and they ask, and ask.

You're a girl, and you like her?

You make me crumble; make me feel weak,
and you reduce me to a trembling mess,
more so befitting of a ship in rough waters,
forever acquiver, for as long as I am in the sea.

And you're a lighthouse, leading me to salvation,
from high waters that you, yourself, was made for. 
But, sink this ship, please, for they say this is forbidden attraction.

"Sin," like the slow hisses of a viper, coiling around my neck and squeezing.

So, sink this ship before hell burns me at the docks.
I'd rather you lead me astray, than let people with guarded hearts
burn me down at my being, taking me apart because they believe I am 
an advocate of the devil, for loving what I love, and for being who I am.

Suffocate me in silence--for mercy--before anyone hangs me, and the last thing
I hear is their victorious roars, over the sounds of your weeps and the image of 
your falling tears.

Of the image of your smirk and your serpentine eyes.

You make me feel sinful and alone, and you're the snake in a pit of lions.