Because love is a kind of ******

... Of self; for another.

... In you I found something
But all I ever wanted was nothing

Don't try to save me
When you can just fall with me

"I'm not ready yet"
A sentence I've used
Time and again and
I feel like I should clarify
That I'm building myself
To be the home
I think you deserve;
Nobody likes the inconvenience
Of a building that's incomplete
It's not not even about luxury
it's about the safety
We both need
To afford forever

Your eyes are poetry
I get them
Yet I don't get them
That fearsome depth
I revel and drown
and I'm not even ashamed
Like poetry; words giving
meaning to my thoughts
Your eyes control the rhythm
To my heartbeat
Fast or slow
Blink and I'll miss a beat
To the dance of your lashes
I'm drunk and lost.

My mind is ill, But it's not
the voices inside that torment
But the voices outside
They call me all sorts
Of names, they speak
Without thinking how their words
Feed the dreaded voices inside
Of my head, till it's too late
I wish it was different...

You insist the shadow
That follows me all day isn't you
And I swear that it takes your shape;
Why then do I still see you
When I look in the mirror at night
And in my dreams
You are in everything
Everywhere I look
What have you done to me?