My body catches fire at the thought of you,
But I don't want this.
I lie awake at night imagining what we could be and how it'd feel to hear you say,
"You're mine,"
But I don't want this.
My heart shatters when I think of you ever being someone else's lover,
But I don't want this.
The tears in my eyes from the unrequite smear the ink that I indirectly write to you with,
But I don't want this.
I don't want this.
I can't want this.
It hurts too much to want you,
But I've learned that it hurts to lie even more.
