BleuMarquise

I pull you close to me Close enough to smell your freshly washed hair And just close enough to push you away After I bury my face into your fabric-softened clothing. We are a perfect sketch of the phrase, I hate you, don't leave me I use my open palms to pound your chest Trying to get you to uncling to me But you hold on still Tightening your grip with every weak blow I punch you and scream in my mind I love you, I need you, don't walk away But my actions show just the opposite of this As I throw a fit of fists and kicking shouting pain Move on, you don't love me As you speak those three words I shake my head and don't believe