Sense Sonnet - Chiller

 Ima Giver

You call me "Honey," am I sweet,

Smellin' like love, lookin' like rain?

You want my demons, you repeat,

Which makes me think you are so vain,

You thinkin' you are just the one

The gods above made just for me.

And dancin' with you's all the fun

That I should ever want to be.

Call up the boys, you tell me to,

Cuz you're too busy with your booze.

Get rid of you, I gotta do.

Your boys are your demons I choose.

You wanted all my demons, so

You got'em and to hell you go.