My Favorite Kind of Misery

"Why...why does he make me want him so?"
I ask myself that question almost everyday of the week
How can I love a man who's capable of breaking my heart
And finding ways to make me cry...and yet
He knows how to make me beg and plead for
Every inch of his body, and every bit of his soul
To make me crave his presence until I lose complete control.
He deserts me in the darkness, blinded by my desire
Refusing to guide me towards the light of his love
He makes me thirsty, and leaves me wanting more and more that
I could drink cases and cases of him and
Become drunk off his sex and hunger for me
But somehow, I still find myself able to stand
On my own two feet

"I need you to fuck me like you hate me,
and breathe me like I'm your only high"
His words of desperation lead me on because they are true
I despise him with every part of my being that it hurts so fucking bad
Though I haven't the slightest idea what to do
Except to love him, kiss him, and hold him in my arms
Like he was my own favorite possession
Like my childhood toy
My security blanket
He's all that I ever wanted in a man and more
But why is he always inclined to make me feel
So damn miserable?

He knows that I'm violent with flaming, ardent desire for him
Yet he doesn't want to face the fact that it's him I need
It's him that I yearn for
It's him that I BURN for
He comes crawling to me, begging for me to love him
Then he pushes me away before I could tell him
Just how desperately mad I am about him
It just isn't fair that he drives me to the brink of insanity
And that's why I'll always consider him
My favorite kind of misery.