you beg for perfection, you can't ask for affection

fear lies in the confession (the confession is laced with blood, tears, and a good few years worth of pent up frustration)
the admittance of love lies heavy on your tongue (your insides are screaming at him, don't leave me, don't hate me, please want me, love me)
he says nothing, and your tongue is suddenly dry enough that you feel like dry heaving (hold back, don't let him see you affected)
the lump in your throat tries to expand, cover your intestines (all the while your stomach is eating itself and your blood is running hothothot)
your eyes are wide and doe-like, your glances at him are furtive (and even though they're looking glassy, the tears don't fall)
your shaking hand flutters to cover your nervous heart (and as he walks away your head is screaming at him)
your mouth moves soundlessly, but your heart is thumping with words to scream at his back
(this is where I start to miss you more than I can bear)