I torture myself
with dreams of you.
hoping and wishing
they may come true.
when reality hits,
I know u don't feel the same.
Yet I still sit here,
and breathe your name.
I think of your face
tracing lines that are in it
and wonder who or what it is
that made your skin split.
I want to feel you,heal you
make you sane in this crazy world
be your protection
from all that is hurled.
still I sit and wonder
why I torture myself
why I can't just tell you
take my courage off the shelf
why can't I tell you I care
that you do something to me
that I just want to be there
to be near thee.
A
Desa
Original