You Make Me Crazy

I'm writing this not only because I want to but I have to. It's the will of my hand and cry of my heart. This disregarded half piece of blank paper needs to be written on. It's paper and paper has to be filled, with thought, emotion, confessions, I need you Dreams I want you. It was just sitting here, in my book, blank. It can't be blank. Fill it up! As long as there are thoughts in your head there should never be a blank piece of paper. I'm writing at 11:30 because it was screaming at me. An alarm or the weight in the back of my head. Fill me up! This is what you do to me. You make me CRAZY! I want you. because of you I must write. I HAVE to or I'll explode. I want you and only you. I can't jump I'm too chicken, call me a coward if you must at least it'll be a word in my direction. I want to see you in those rugby shorts running in the sun without a shirt. I want to be near your arrogant confidence. I want to see every expression on your freckled face especially your intensely sexy face. The one you look at me with when I turn up in a different place and I surprise you, but it's much more than surprise. The one you use when you think I'm not looking. I want your arms. I want your big plump lips. I want your hand in mine. I need your arms around me. I need your presence, I need to see you. Come on! Leave me alone, it's late. Let me sleep. Oh let me sleep. But I can imagine me running my finger tips along your chest and your firm hands holding my arms. Hands are the greatest thing in the world. I'd run them through your hair. You'd run them down my back. You haunt my dreams as the tyrant, the angel and my sin all in one night. Over and Over. My heart keeps racing, I never sleep. This is what you do to me. You make me write at midnight, you make me sweat at daybreak and you make me weak in the sunlight.