You can't sit there
and tell me
you aren't tempted too.
Logic tells me
I should not want you,
that there is
no reason to be
attracted
to you.
I imagine that you're cruel and that your mind carries no
real sustenance for me,
that you are one-dimensional.
It makes it a little easier.
I shouldn't even say
attracted,
because there is no attraction
to your soul,
if you indeed possess one.
This is more
like hunger
like thirst
like a yearning that leaves me wanting
shamefully,
not love.
Yet I can wait,
that's what I've always been good at.
I'll either come to my senses or you'll lose yours.
Madness is a spectrum,
is it possible we might meet in the middle?
And if you tried to tell me you aren't:
I would never believe you.
