Make Amends And Take A Bow

you talk to me and I listen intently. My eyes peruse your face for some signal of interest. They follow the line of your nose and focus on your eyes. I wonder what your skin would feel like, but I'm not brave enough to feel your face. To touch your hand.

You're so passionate. sensual. intense. I can't take it anymore and I feel my eyes fill with lamentation and I tell you that I can't listen anymore. What once was simply doting has become an irrepressible urge to love you. You try to calm me, but I vehemently pull away from you. You just don't get it. How it never scabs over. this open wound that i've unknowingly salted for so long. bandage after bandage. You're my uncurable. my disease. my addiction.

if i walked up to you now and told you I'm in love, with you would you believe me?

if I...fought a losing battle...would you commend me?