My words come out better

when you are with me.

When you are gone,

I cannot form a coherent thought.

Agony, sheer agony of mind

Screaming at whiteness,

Longing for you

to say something to me.

You come and go

when you please.

You’re cold-hearted

fickle and rude. But when

you’re sweet?

You’re decadently so.

When you’re loving,

You wrap yourself in my

mind--you never let go

Promise me one thing?

If you’re going to go again,

Give me some warning.

That way, I’ll have a pen in hand

when you come knocking at my door.