"Stay the hell away from here!" he screamed at you
He was pointing to his chest
You asked him if he meant his lungs and he shook his head
He meant his heart

He's a poem you can never end
The lines flow nicely in the beginning and the middle
But once you get to the bottom of your page, you reread the last line
And curse yourself for typing it on a typewriter because there is
no turning back

He's a storm you watch from the window but never go out and stand in
The puddles beckon you to stomp in them but You shake your head this time,
You're not twelve anymore
You don't play in the rain

He's your worst nightmare incarnated
He's a fever dream, the worst kind
He's the best thing to ever happen to you
But it scares you so much you paint it dark blue and call it sinister

"Stay away from here" you finally say back
You've got ******* aimed at your temple like a gun
He asked you if you meant your mind
You meant your heart