Tongue tied, cherry knot, headliner.
I imagine what your bedsheets sound like.
And how does your chapstick taste, right after it's applied?

One more question, or maybe ten.
Does your voice sound like symphonies?
If you whisper into my universe, would I hear a melody?
Will it carry me—
will YOU carry me to bed if I’m too drunk to dance or to stand,
But not too tipsy to sing?

My rendition of “Baby (one more time)” is similar to that of a siren song.
“My loneliness is killin’ meee and I”... know you might not understand me,
when I talk in my sleep.
But will your eyes fly open when I mumble that I love you?
Or when I wake up breathing like there’s no air left in my lungs
because one too many people took my breath away,
And never gave it back?

What if I dissolved into madness
for you?
I would do it. 
Wanna bet?
I’d take padded walls
and straitjackets,
if it meant you never left my head. 

Is insanity a symptom of undying love? 
My heart goes pitter patter,
I’m convinced no one else will matter 
as much as you do. 
No one. 
 
I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth. 
I’ll chase you, 
if I must. 
I will hunt you like an animal, 
baby, 
if it means you’ll love me, too.