About "love" and how in the moment it can feel like a passionate sickness.
My foolish heart, to fall crazy in love, way to smart. Or so I thought, not wanting to love you, strongly I fought. Now it is to late-- my heart is forever yours, each night for you I wait. My behavior turns childish, for your attention I act selfish, my words become foolish to hear you say just a few simple words, I wish...... I struggle with the one thing I have no control over, praying for an answer, tears spill over as I become weaker. What more must I do, what more must I say, On your doorway, I lay..... On your footsteps, I play..... In your hands, I am clay...... All I ask is for a moment, a little of your time, just a fragment. An honest emotional word or two, with me you have become so silent. My heart breaks at the thought that I am unpleasant, when looked at by you do you only see me as absent? What shall I do? unexpectedly my feelings grew. Now I am a mess, crying over you. I feel to you I am no more than a burden, with little value. I receive no feelings in return, so I ask is this true? Or am I suffering from nothing more than---- my love for you?
