I sat there, Longing for passion But your love for me Comes in rations
I have to gather up my ration points Like a girl in the depression of war I can save then for a while and Get something really big Or I can spend them here Or there It makes me want to spit
I deserve your love We donβt have to be at war If I have to work for one more hug, I might not love you anymore.
2/12/14 (a.f.c)
I've decided to write a series of 18 poems, because instead of trying to patiently wait until February 28th, this is my version of a countdown, to keep me preoccupied.