Look down this street
With only a handful of houses
And my eyes land on 2880
It's a weird number considering
There aren't that many feet
On the street. Oh how my
Feet loved that street.
But weird is apt; we had
A weird love like a praying mantis.
Only I'm unsure who fed on whom.
We fed each other.
With lies and love we gorged ourselves
And then came back for more.
I ate you every night,
But never really got full.
Parasite or symbiote: it's a fine line.
Fine was good for a while
Like ramen in college
You got me through.
Your dogs were my dessert
And I spooned you all the
Sweetness I could muster.
But it was still under-saturated
I'm sure. 2880 made me
Mrs. Child feeding you my love.
But we both share dissordered eating.
Wanting more than we'll take or give
A car ride with only a hand held.
I guess going back for seconds was a bad idea
But I really loved the buffet.
You're moving on, and staying put when
I can't stand still except to sit
Outside 2880 is where I tell myself
I'll quit going back for more.
Guilty glutton; it's what I am.
I don't know when to stop.
I can't forget 2880.
I don't know how to end
Anything that I begin
Turns into a run-on when I run in.
Cold turkey is the way to go
Grandma did it, but she had more
To lose more to love and less
Time to love it.
I was broken before 2880,
And managed to fix myself
While breaking your house
That I love. It's how
I do: break when enter.
Small bites are easier to swallow.