I am obsessed,
obsessive
obsessing
over you.
So much that I think I've become ill.

My mind throbs
from all the memories.
Vague and vivid
and even imageless,
remebering all of them
from when we were five
to just last weekend.
My eyes are red and itchy,
my tears that just won't cease.
My body aches,
my muscles feel twisted and ripped
beneath my skin,
as if you tore through my arms
trying to escape from our embrace.
My chest feels heavy
carrying this burden.
And my breath feels thick
with the old blood of our compassion.

I am sick.
Sick with you
and why everything seems totally fine one moment,
and then I get lost in the lull of my empty bedroom,
with a knife reflecting
your handsome rigid face.