Sense Sonnet - Acher

 Bad Medicine

From the moment you and I met

A fever in me did take hold.

Such a weakness in me I'd get,

Getting more hot, more you got cold.

I know you gave me the brush off,

But deep inside I felt so sure

That just pretending when you'd scoff

For me you had no magic cure.

But any dose of you indeed,

No matter how bitter a pill

Is prescription to fill my need

And hope that you will keep me ill.

So lovesick over you I be.

You're such bad medicine for me.