She loves me, she loves me not.
She lies to me, my blood runs hot.
She teases me, then begs for mercy.
She is my lover, she is my enemy.
My mind is plagued with words.
Things she has said, things I have said.
My mind is plagued with deeds.
What she has done, what I want to do.
My mind is plagued with needs.
I need her to hear me,
I need her to see me,
I need her to understand.
I try to explain,
but she will not listen.
Why should she?
I am weak and easy to please,
I am the victim who is quick to beg on their knees.
My anger will be appeased,
with the slightest touch from her hand.
She says she is sure she loves me.
I'm not sure I am.
