Love, is knowing every one of your facebook posts as if they were my own,
Or is that called stalking?
Love, is all the places we've gone my mind,
Or is that called dementia?

Every picture, is fuel for the emotional time bomb,
Ticking in my chest, threatening catastrophic effusion.
And how can you save me?
If you don't know that you're killing me?

I visit your profile, I flirt with the risk.
The temptation is too hard to resist.


© Deneka Thomas . All rights reserved