Why do I fall so far into the temptation I know I can't have?

Is it the slap on the hand that triggers my curiosity?

I can see it lying there,

So close, yet so far away.

Looking as good as it could get.

I know I'll never be able to tough that beautiful object that stole my heart,

But still I long for it.

It has captured my soul, which is the only thing that truly makes you living.

Without it I wonder around as a mindless zombie,

Blind to the world.

I still see that sign.

Do not touch.

So I drool over it.

Until the day I can break through that barrier,

I will walk around as dead as the flower in the glass on my windowsill.