I see her face,
My chest gets tight,
I up my pace,
She remains in sight,
I look away,
And I try to flee,
To my dismay,
I can't get free,
My stomach turns,
My belly rumbles,
My insides churn,
And my legs stumble,
But I have learned,
That it cant be stopped.
I get dizzy,
And I get sweaty,
I hold my breath,
Cause I can feel death,
I feel it rise,
I feel it rising,
Its no surprise,
I know this feeling,
I take my leave,
Rushing to the stall,
And I heave, heave, heave,
Until I've heaved it all.
This problem of mine, is surely of mind,
But I can't accept, such nervous concept.
If a girl, is around,
I will make, retched sound.
I close my eyes, cause I am sick,
How I despise, such harsh afflict.
This my problem, I keep hidden,
The only way, I could fit in.
Between home and school, the sacred border,
Difference between, health and disorder.
Style of her hair,
Does not matter.
Color of her eye,
Is not factor.
The shape of her face,
Unimportant.
The width of her waist.
Mind discordant.
How her body looks, and how she appears,
Is of no concern, because of my fears.
Every woman, if so close they came,
My inside urges, I cannot contain.
And the end result, is always the same.
For this affliction, for who could I blame?
For how long have I suffered?
It's biological.
As long as I remembered,
It's physiological.
Is there any cure in sight?
It's pathological.
Only solution is flight,
It's illogical.
And impossible.
The only thing I know,
Learned from experience,
From past present go,
Lack of resilience,
Is if I'm close to chick,
My only response is
To get very very sick.
Love.
Sick.
