Jan

I love her. I love her so much that sometimes it hurts unbearably. I'm ready to do anything for her. But she doesn't love me back.
I'm sick. I'm sick of my love. It's not even love - it's an obsession.
And I can't do anything about it, like a dog I run after her. My silly, my tender, my girl, she tries to run from me, little by little, thereby inflaming my desire. I won't let her go. I will lie at her feet, she is the mistress of both heart and soul, she has captivated a wild beast, she doesn't know what she has, what power she has over me, at the snap of a finger I will crawl, at one whisper I will do whatever she wants. MINE!!