I'm sick
Apparently that's what this is called
It's not what's right and I feel it, my stomach clenching
But I'm already rebellious and they're already appalled
What more can I do other than keep pretending?
I'm in pain
It's clear from how I silently scream
And there's no one else to blame but you in all your perfection
I'm seeing stars and it's like some euphoric nightmare of a dream
God suddenly seems like a master of deception.
I'm blinded
I'm awash with the image of you
I'm enchanted in the most sinful sense of the word
You're in front of me, you're everywhere, you're blocking my view
Is this heaven or hell? I'm questioning all I've heard.
It's terminal
I'm done for, truly a lost cause
In my mind too but my body is shaking
You my dear, seem to be the only cure
No treatment prescribed and nothing worth taking.
I'm sick
That's what you think but I maintain that I'm fine
Keep the doctors out and I don't need your prayers
Is it really so sinful to feel so divine?
It's perfection would only be increased with you being there.
