Cold Blooded.

Is she a cold blooded woman?
Is there really any blood running through her veins?
Trust me when I say you can.
Otherwise, there will be complains and dramas
About the paths for which you followed me.

Watching my moves
Acting like a moth
scared of light
But loving it anyway
Allergic by the sun
But adoring the warm it causes
There is always a kind of storm where I lay.

When the rain falls outside,
Just hold me close or leave me on my own.

Make me feel alive again,
Or do not even try to enchant, like a snake, my heart.

By life, by others, by days, by lies, by dried goodbyes
This is who you call cold blooded.