Playing Dirty

You'll never walk away with bruises on your face, or a fractured rib. That's not the kind fo dirty I play. I'll hold your beating heart in my hand, though I didn't take it from you forcefully, You handed it to me like every boy before you has. You cut it out of your chest with the words "I love you.", didn't even bother to protect it by locking it in a box first. You'll just hand it to me, blood dripping from your fingers with a smile I smile back even though I know What I'll do with it in the end Even if I tell myself, "it's different this time, this time I'll play nice." I never do