Untitled -- 4.1.2007

1998 - 2010

I'm sick from breathing the air you breathe.

The pat on my back like I'm one of your boys...

I've been infected.

I'm going blind by the sight of your body frame;

From your narrow legs to your fine brown locks,

I don't know what I'm dealing with.

Your voice does something to cripple me.

I'm not crazy in love, I'm not head over heels.

I can feel my body shrinking in size.

When you turn your back, when you put me down!

Every minute I spend equals a year I lose.

Hearing my name slowly roll off your lips,

Brings a darkness inside that I can't contain.

I'm convinced!

I don't know what I'm dealing with!

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written April 1, 2007

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