Deal with psychosis in terms of schizophrenia . . .
She builds paranoia, fickle her feminine name.
The peacemaker I sit with, she helps me forget my pain through politics . . . I run the race . . . hallucinate me president.

The embodiment of escape without a human signature . . .
Is she demon or angel?
Is she Satan or Savior?
When questions continue I give in to her and embrace my pondering.

Sweeter than cherry, a lovely companion to sleep forgetful.
I don't toss and turn so much when I kiss her goodnight . . . I cannot pull away, we stay liplocked hours after our initial date . . . to find her release in a warm body . . .
Instead of a cold drink.

The opposite of my attraction means disaster or change . . . I'm equipped for neither. I deny myself pleasure as a means to protect her. More than familiar with the demon that would rape her, although she sees a saint, there's no reflection in my mirror.
Ms. White calls to my libido again, she is enticement that burns like deity encased in sin.

These sirens I close my senses to, watching soldiers lose their discipline to sweet song and fangs . . . will I meet the same fate?
This blind and deaf torture awaits the coming of day and the song of the Unnamed continues to mock . . . she racks my frame with seduction . . .

The hook on which lies the bait . . .