i am in love with you
in the worst way

creeping thoughts that
tell me it's over loom in
crevices and corners no
matter how bright
the sun shines

every moment i'd like a
hand in mine, it's yours
i picture and then it's gone,
one ****** digit at a time,
til i'm left with nothing
but a dripping stump

i write you with depth
and decisiveness, but you
want none of it and
for some reason, i am
not deterred

i will hang from spanish
moss and bide my time
amongst cicadas as leaves
fall and seasons crawl on,
i will wait until these bugs
breathe life into this earth
again and again and again

this cannot be it,
because i love you,
even if it's in the worst way,
i just wish that you could
see how big this love is
without my wearisome words