Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Scrap that, you thought, I’ll go one better
You remind me of a storm.
Heaven on your lips, you wrote
With rhythmic sway and purpose,
Lines you scribed to excise your mind
The parts where I still lingered.

10 things I hate about you in prose
Though you only made it to eight
I’ll forgive you for the missing two
Cause we both know they were there.

Still I come back here often
To a place where love is shown
And even though it hurts to touch
I just can’t leave it alone.

We were young and dumb and hurtful
Or at least that’s my excuse
For why I requested your soul
And left us to misuse.