enough! i said.
the tiger roared in its dull silver jail.
i lifted my bitten fingers to the padlock
and enclosed it in, finally.
you, i hissed,
you mustn't follow me anymore;
i am breaking away from all that you are.
your striking orange fur doesn't tempt me,
nor do your growling words phase me.
i am leaving you here,
so begone.
but alas, where can it go but around its cage?
soon enough i heard it call a name i know well,
the jail crumbled away,
and i found myself within its jaws again.
i don't actually want to write any more poems for this person, i really just need to stop? at this point, but what can i do? what can i do? what can i do