Sickman's Love Disorder

I wish I could
love you
as much as

you do.

I guess
I do not
love you,
enough.

When I hear,

lets go,

Your way, my way

i choke.

Your absense,
like your silence,
surrounds me,
fills me,
oozes out

from a dry eye.

and

I tell myself,

Maybe,

I have not

loved you

enough, ever.

I tell myself,

a hundred times

each silent day,

that this craving

is a disease.

It needs

to be cured,

not endured,.

That when

i miss you,

its not love.

Its a disorder.

when I get

restless,

i need a pill,

not love.

The night sky,

stares at me,

and my phone,

still beepless,

leaves me

clueless,

once again.

Depression & anxiety,

and other

disorders of the heart,

can be cured for sure.

Its all, afterall,

a chemical imbalance

a harmonal anarchy.

I wish I could

love you

as much as you do.

I know you love me

in a perfectly

balanced way.

In right proportions

clinically measured,

drop by drop

at fixed intervals

as required.

You know...

an ocean

full of love

will cause me

indigestion.

I wish... I could love more.

At least,

As much as you do.

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