Only you

Whilst having a chance at a relationship, I still obsessed over you, I believe that Even if you were to put me on, Even if she were alluringly beautiful, Even if she were perfect for me, Even if you made me get over you, the endeavor would result in failure. When I'm with you, my brain transforms into a broken down car, stopping in its tracks. My lips move but no sentence forms. What's the point of being bilingual ever since I could speak if I forget both languages in an attempt to talk to you? What's the point of having a name, the very thing that identifies me, and hearing it all my life, if I can't remember it when I'm in your presence? What's the point of staying up at night overthinking and imagining what I would say while conversing with you if it all vanishes the moment I lay my eyes on your loveliness of an image.