Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2013
So we met for the first time at least one hundred times now. What are we supposed to do; fall in love? You fell in my pool and I fell in your pool and we're drowning. Death due us part: exactly! You can never take this love home, baby. There is always way too many issues and way too many tissues that are involved. Loving you feels like ants crawling in my veins, taunting me with the sting. Loving you feels like sitting under a grey cloud, dry. Love between us is working but it's lurking to make a change that will never let us take it home and settle. What if we take it home and it works you ask.. Little task, we just love. One of us dies first, probably you cause I'm aware. Then I'm alone, no clone, and there is no love for me to share. I spent half my life loving one person so much that I risked everything and ignored everyone just to bring it home; now you're dead. Who do I have? Love is a selfish, little lust if you ask me. Good luck bringing your love home. Good luck being immortal, you'll need it.
Matthew Scot Baldwin
Please log in to view and add comments on poems