I hate it here

When you tell me that you love me, 

A numbness settles in my soul, 

Like a fire that burns so fiercely, 

It doesn't really hurt at all, 

My heart, it skips a beat, then two- 

I know that it will skip again, 

When I lay my eyes on you, 

A guarantee adoration will happen. 

Since tiny fists and toothy grins, 

I've been a mottled mess, 

And have come to know the outs and ins, 

Of the lack of a caress, 

The longing for warmth - awful, freezing - 

Forms my pragmatic independence, 

So untamed; it's almost pleasing, 

Almost bleeding, in a sense. 

I'm begging you to take my hand, 

And to hold it close and tight, 

Force me to be still, to take a stand, 

To burn through the darkest night, 

So that I might roast my very heart, 

Set kindling down for you,