like the hollow echo of her fuck-me pumps on the cold tile floor. and you always said you'd never touch a girl like her. you always said you'd never trust a girl like her.the red lines in your back from her sighs and moans could run for miles. and you know the world has gone to hell when you can't stand the sound of her voice, but you can't live without the taste of her skin. you clean her soot from under your finger nails, and pull her stray hairs off your sweater, and pretend her scent doesn't still linger there. and none of this will ever make a difference, because she dwells in the back of your mind. "touch me, kiss me, fuck me." touch her. kiss her. fuck her. you couldn't say no even if you wanted to. and the smell of lilacs that lives in her hair is finally starting to make you sick. and you just hold your breath. it's understandable. it gets a bit hard to get your point across when her tounge is lodged in the back of your throat. you couldn't say no even if you wanted to. and you don't stop to think just how many people have been at this spot before you. but none of this makes a difference, because you couldn't say no even if you wanted to. and it's a ballad of sorts. every time your breath warms her skin, every time she runs her finger through your hair, you are that much more of a hypocrite because you couldn't say no even if you wanted to. and sometimes it's just not worth the effort, but for everytime she pushes you away you push back that much harder. and her picture sits in your room, just daring you to deny her of anything. you can hear the hollow echo of her fuck-me pumps coming down the cold tiles floor of the hallway, and your heart beats just a little bit faster. but none of this will ever make a difference, because you couldn't say no even if you wanted to.