Its sweeter than pure sugar
More than a normal heart
Could possibly contain
Your love my dear
I dont deserve

Its addicting like ******
My own legal drug
The highs are better
Than taking someones innocence
And ruining another life

Your love
Its pure and untainted
You whisper it in my  ear
As I hold you close
Slowly stripping your body

Your love
Gives my heart an *******
As if your soft skin under my hands
Gives my body one
Both of which I want you to enjoy

Your love
Sets my heart and soul on fire
A new flame for this old wick
A warmth I havent felt in so long
A cure for my desolate broken heart

Your love
I wish I could comprehend
Its more than I can possibly bare
But will return proudly
Because I know its true

Your naked body
Close to mine
I embrace
As our bodies meet
Showing each other the affection we share

I feel the cold, it penetrates my soul
I look up, the sky is black like my thoughts
I sit and ponder, when will I be whole
All these days, for happiness I have fought

People wonder, why are my thoughts so dark
It's a disease for which there is no cure
All this pain, on my soul there is a mark
If it will ever heal I am not sure

I'm searching for the light but there is none
My eyes are open and yet I can't see
I reach out for help but there is no one
I call out, none hear my desperate plea

I'll keep on living each day feeling lost
Until happy lighted paths have been crossed

Oh Helena, how I doth know thy pain
Mocked is thine love when at love's feet thrown
Love hath looked upon thee with disdain
And yet still for him thy love hath grown

Do not despair Cupid's arrow at thine door does knock!
Upon thee, loves eyes an awakening will be placed
No longer can  love's spiteful eyes see thee and mock!
And to thine love will he quickly rush in haste

But first know before one is to have thy way
A comedy must first be struck upon
Alas Puck! Disaster hath struck and a game we must all play
Before order is once more restored and the past foregone

Oh no! Now a love thrown upon thee unwanted
Mockery suspected, no more of this dost thou deserve
Evermore another feeling given to thee daunted
But now sit back, let the story unfurl and observe!

Finally soft words to thee spoken so craved
At once entranced but then felt thee a fool!
From nowhere sweet words so spoken must be depraved!
And in thine heart feeling loves sting ever so cruel

Now thy dearest friend! Intertwined within such a conspiracy
Such betrayal! Dear girl know it is a mistake
Albeit twisted and buried in the cruelest irony
Thy dearest friend, thine love she does not wish to shake

Through troubles and trials thou maketh thy way to a beautiful field
Fast asleep next to the love thy value ever so
Puck, fix thy mistake, give Helena her love to finally wield
And at last house a mutual love to forever grow

Why does she feel
like she doesn't belong?
Why does she feel
like none want her near?

Why does she feel
like she's always unwanted?
Why does she feel
like she's just and annoyance?

Why can't she feel
like she's happy and important?
Why can't she feel
like she's free to be herself?

But she can be herself!
So why does it matter
what everyone thinks of
the girl full of thoughts?

One simple sentence
is all it could take.
But I'll give  you nine words
to answer your questions:

She shouldn't feel,
she can feel,
it doesn't matter.

They hide while you're sleeping
and come when you rise.
They come from the weeping
and run from your eyes.

You escape while you're sleeping
with such a surprise.
The thoughts you'll be keeping
are dripping with lies.

You wish you were sleeping
so you could forget.
You want to stop weeping
and have no regret.

Can you always be sleeping?
You know that you can.
You need to stop weeping,
but not by that plan.

You won't always be sleeping,
you won't always smile,
you won't always be weeping,
but you'll live a long while.

Uncertainty
Unsure of how one could love her
Thus constantly second guessing
Considering self unworthy
So then this feeling
It doesn't matter if she is hurt
It does, but it is expected
For she is unworthy of happiness