She is a woman,
who sees herself as a tradition,
a ritual, a repetition.
You met her, loved,
called her, your own.
She loved you back.
called you, her own.
... deep down her self,
she makes you angry,
forces you to leave her...
Just, when you have made up your mind,
she grips you tight.
And the pain from her eyes, drips over your lips,
She lets you taste her bitter side.
You want to bite her pain, she escapes, like the shadow of your own dark side.
Until you know, what is this,
I should tell you,
It is too late, my dear !
You are in love with a sadomasochistic
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