Love makes me sick.
No,
Literally
I dry heave down to my intestines
When I think about
All the emotion I'm in
Drowning more everyday
Feeling more and more helpless
I can't help it...
Love makes me sick
And still I take it
And want more...
I want all her attention
I want to be the one that she sends a random text to
At 3:17 A.M
Just because she misses...
My hands on her hips...
My fingers that trace her lips as she sleeps
My tongue on the cartilage of her ear
As I speak
When I'm trying to turn her on
Spitting
Sweet
Sexy
Somethings in her ear...
I want the woman
Who has me wrapped around her finger
To notice that I'm dangling
By a thread
From her pinky...
And that sometimes...
It makes the nausea go away
When she lets me know...
That she actually wants me...

I want to wake up
In the middle of the night
So I can watch her sleep
Just to wake up
To see her...
Stuck in a trance as she watches me...
No it's not stalking...
It's just
One of those things
That lovers
Head over hills sometimes do.

I want to read poems that she's written about me
Which would mean that...
She would have to actually write a poem
About me
Not about a daydream
Or a night dream
Or a fantasy
But about me
Not to stroke my ego...
But just to make my heart feel good...
A little booster
To know that I'm on the right track
As all the other
Honorees
That got the attention
From her pen and notebook
Who came before me...
But nothing major...
She could put it on 7 sheets of Post-It notes...
And I'd be more than happy.

And sometimes...
I secretly want her to dominate me...
Make me tell her who's it is
Hot wax
Strip tease
Bondage
Type of thing...
Just a little bit...
More than I'm fully ready to admit...
But I can say this...
I'd like to be turned inside out and right side in
And turned back out once again.
Then again...
That could just be the freak in me.

I want her to want me...
That's all it takes to please me...
Not for real but it's a start
And my heart is where it ends.
All in all...
I just want to be the woman of her ...
Inner most secret fantasies
Chats amongst girlfriends
Who say she's lucky to have me
Because I know I swear up and down I'm lucky to have her...
From prolific moments down to everything ignorant...
Broken English down to other languages...
I love you...
I want you...
I need you...
All feels the same.

Then again...
Either I can't make her want me...
Or love is just a bitch.
I'd like to think the latter of the two...
Because she's going to want me.
Eventually.
Even if I have to heave my heart out and splash it on my sleeve...
She'll want me
With a tear stained face...
And thoughts running free
She'll spell my name backwards and forwards
And use every letter in the alphabet with every word in the language of man to
Confess her love to me...
At least once...
Even if it's just to ease the symptoms...
Cause this love shit...
Ain't nothing to fuck with
And if she doesn't for my heart soon...
It'll be on the ground in front of me...
Tattooed with the imprint of her shoe...
Leaving me to be the heartless motherfucker
That screws over every broad
From there on out
And I know she doesn't want to be the one I put that shit on
Fucking up her conscience

Some would call me needy
Some would call me sprung
I call me hers...
So if you see her...
Tell her I need her...
To want me...

Just to take the edge off these dry heaves.