Three years I waited,
I watched you become more and more awkward.
Three years we were partners,
asking for your ****** preference and receiving nothing.
Three years and then you up and left,
and when you returned I showed my feelings.
Three years you said, these emotions last,
and yet you never had the courage to do what I did.
Three years and I finally felt,
the soft touch of your lips on mine,
sinfully delicious.
Three years, I had never imagined, perfection,
yet you leave as soon as they call you again.
Three years and I am leaving,
for the same reasons you yourself cherish.
Three words I will never hear you say,
I love you, but what does that seem to matter?