I'd like to feel your love.
I told myself once in a while would be enough,
But I keep craving it, now that I know that you're mine.

Are you truly mine? I ask over and over again.
It feels like I am yours. Just yours.
And you gave nothing else for me.

I wandered. I ran.
I got lost, and it was silly of me to think you'd come and find me.
I always knew you'd let me slip off your hands when you had the chance

I'd like to feel your love.
I said to you once or twice.
You told me that you already do, with all the physical objects, sweet messages and the apologies you gave me for everything.
Is that not love? You ask me
I agreed because the way you said it made me crumble onto your arms once more

Such foolishness that I always fall for your flowery words
Maybe it's because I'd like to think of them as comforting kisses and embraces when you're not there to calm me down in the late hours.

It's strange that we do anything to be there for a person who's usually not going to move an inch to wipe away your tears.

I love you, I truly do.
I even wished that you did too.
But will you ever make that come true?

She's a clumsy feline,
A producer of selective shivers
In sheer long glares she gives
Untimely soul feelers.

Which creeps through my bones
Since the last days of winter,
A clutched wanter of deeds,
In an almost sold properties.

She dusts me with her coat
Golden as the sweet summer sun,
Brewing my sleepy dull senses
Like a good coffee and a bun.

For I have told her factually
That these eyes are mere blinded,
But the instincts are sharpened
From the good old days I've reminded.

Come home again, she invited,
To the capital of hope and romances.
As she metals in and moans in discreet,
Then blast me with a little furry treat.