Bad Habits

The thorn to your rose,

beautiful from a distance,

with delicate features,

and a touch of death.

The heel to your black shoes,

art in theory,

with supportive intent,

and a pinch of pain.

The lyrics to your song,

perfect in melody,

with a killer hook,

and a piece of your soul.

The words to your book,

seduced from a sentence,

with distorted imagery,

and an unhappy ending.

The distress to your cavity,

sweet once taken,

with gradual sorrowful results,

and an unbearable agony.

The trigger to your gun,

tempting to pull,

with a sultry ricochet,

and a mind full of regret.