Grey Area

Flying emotions, and I can't get you out of my head:

You might be silently suffering,

and I worry.

There's a level of empathy, but I can't help but care.

Care more for you than a friend should.

Infatuation is perverse,

and given the situation, I too am perverse:

I would love to see you succeed in

happiness,

your passions,

and life.

But under the sick paradigm,

I'm not infatuated.

I'm not infatuated because this is something more.

This is an indescribably grey area,

and I can't help but love it that much more.