Medicine

I don't really know what I'm feeling.
My chest aches;
Too empty, too full.
My stomach turns,
I'm on edge,
My pulse stuttering, fluttering, like an injured hummingbird.

I feel sick and I want to be with you
Because you make me better-
But I know I should probably get away.
I'm scared.
Kind of happy-scared.

I think.

I love your eyes.
I love the way you light up
When you smile.
I love your laugh.
You should laugh more.
I should laugh more.

I'm just a mess of nerves and disorders.
I find flaw in everything
And magic in everything else.
I really don't make much sense,
But sometimes, neither do you.

You're like my medicine;
You're making me better.

It's getting harder to be away from you.
But that seems like nothing
Compared to how hard it is when you're here.