Warm, yet I remain cold.
Calm, yet I grow upset.
I long to be around you.
I wish upon you happiness.
I know you've always brought me bliss,
But friend, I now must tell you this:
Something now between us comes;
I fear 'tis all because of me.
The things which bring you happiness,
leave for me the sad.
The things which bring you trauma,
tempt to make me glad.
"Oh God I pray to be a friend--
to cherish and to hold,
The person who to me shall be
the purest of a mold!"
But something grows from deep within--
It strives to blur my vision.
You see my friend, I've not been me.
For I've contracted...