Love Me, or Love Me. Please.

Your hands, 

Were all over me in needy ways, in every way— 

In holy, unholy, frantic ways, that may hold promises. 

Yet, I'm still waiting to be let in; For empty promises to be fulfilled.

Your lips, 

Whispering sweet-nothings in to my ear.

Wrapping me up with yearning, apologetic tears, 

And promises of us— forever and more.  

Your body, 

Pressed up against mine with a comforting weight. 

I'm not just a just a friend you tell me, “My Mrs….” 

And you're a hot-tempered sensual fiend needing me. 

Your heart— Oh, a needy heart, 

You say it belongs to only me, “only you, baby.” 

But your other "girlfriends" can't know the truth about me.  

How sad, how low— oh, how do you think I feel loving you so? 

My hands, 

Shake with wanted anticipation— needing you too. 

I help you unbutton all of me; unzipping the truth: 

My walls, my insecurities, my belief in everything, everyone else. 

My lips, 

Trace your every handsome inch. 

Taking you in ways that I've never imagined… 

But my ears remain ever so confused, by lack of action. 

My body, 

Trembles under your tender touch. 

The touch that knows what it wants— needs…

My vulnerability, and how to pull it out from inside. 

My heart— Oh, my poor heart, 

Forever belongs to you, we’ve both agreed. 

I've stopped begging, crying, pleading,

For you to love me true like you say you do.

Now I'm just blinding believing— hoping.