Condemned things are still pretty. (Pt 3)

Darling, lay me down,
I'm your toy and you're my drug.
Darling, rip those buttons off,
Different intentions met by the same means.

I love the shapes your mouth makes when you talk,
you love the way my voice shakes when I moan your name.

I love your name
It tastes like poison made from hopes and dreams.
At first, it stings.

But it is yours and,
tonight you are mine again.

So slither your deadly finger tips sweetly across my skin...
Count my goosebumps, baby, because you made each one of them-
like you
made each scar and each doubt and each ounce of mistrust.

How could I let you come back?

Let your lips dance and wander
away from my mouth to all the places they don't belong but
fit in like they've come home,
Like the ghosts they are,
coming home to an empty house.

I will always be your empty house.
Condemned but in the right light, pretty.
Broken windows to a broken spirit,
You've come back again and I
Will take what I am given.