She has the type of draw
That no matter how hard you try-
And dear God, have I tried-
It won’t let you go.
There’s a hunger in her eyes
That is insatiable.
You tear out a piece of your soul,
Wrap it up with a bow on top,
And place it on the table next to the rest of them, waiting to fill her void.
Satisfaction never knew a price as it does in her presence,
For even when you have none left to give,
Her hunger rages on.