I told you

I didn't believe in love

but something inside of me

screams at me to want

you.

To want the parts of you

that make me 

angry.

To want the parts of you

that hate me.

Maybe it's because

I haven't had 

a good nights rest

since you left,

but there's something

about the way you 

could make me smile

in an instant.

You could look at me

and I would feel better.

The other half of me,

though,

tells a different story.

It yells at me 

for wanting someone

who wouldn't be able to 

look me in the eye 

if he knew the full story.

It yells at me for

believing that he could

want me, too.

You have torn me 

apart with your eyes

alone.

You have this

power over me

that I haven't been able to take

back. 

Until then,

I will remain silent.

Thank you.