Why do you have to make me feel the way that you do?
It's like looking at you gives me a fever of a hundred-and-two.
When I hear your voice, it just makes me want you more --
Now my fever's spiked, it's a hundred-and-four.
I get more drunk off of you than I do whiskey or wine...
Boy, what I wouldn't give if I could only make you mine;
You intoxicate me, the thought of you just blows my mind
Why do you have to be so god-damned one-of-a-kind?
You're both obnoxious and modest,
And if I'm being perfectly honest...
I wish that I could deny this overwhelming attraction
But everything you say drives me to distraction.
You either infuriate me or amaze me...
Everything about you seems to drive me crazy;
Don't know how, but you got under my skin...
Now you're the only way that I want to sin.
I want you next to me, inside me, whispering in my ear
I want your body writhing over mine, I fear;
Fill me with your passion, and fill me with your pain
Make the sensory overload drive me a little bit insane.
I hate that you make me feel the way that you do,
Like looking at you gives me a fever of a hundred-and-two...
And I hate that hearing your voice always makes me want you more,
Because then the fever spikes and hits a hundred-and-four.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Collection
PuisiOkay, guys. So - I just wanted to let you know that some of this poetry is going to include foul language. Not all, but some. Some of them are also pretty dark. Consider yourself warned! :)
