Blackboard Walls

I'd spend my time scratching down these blackboard walls and curling my toes and digging my nails into my palms until they bleed just to see a spark.
Does that make strange or weird or gross?
No, at least I don't think so.
I'd crash down planes and catch a speck of dust just to hear you speak to me again.
I'd melt my mouth and cut out my tongue to see you smile because of me, and finally for once not because of her.
I'd flicker like a live wire and dance in the night like a gem and blow my brains out just for a kiss.
I'd rip this generic wallpaper off and break my back and crash these walls down on top of me to hear you call for me.
And to talk to you for half an hour I'd kill this switch and bring down the basis of nearly everything I've done.
Do they call this love?
You tell me.
Cause it doesn't seem a whole lot like it.

Author's Note

Do you think the second/third line should go where it is, or at a different place in the poem. Thanks :)