I've spent all my years feeling sorry for myself
for these emotions, for the things that I have little to no control over. Honestly, i'm ******* over it.

I could build you mountains and amusement parks
out of these words I conjure up
but you would tell me you're not amused
and I shouldn't haven't wasted all my energy on you.
But love is no obligation? Or is it to you?

I would paint you sunsets and write you novels
and you would tell me I'm just wasting paper.
I told myself no one would control my feelings,
no one would make me feel like **** for them.
But here we are again
which is why these fingers press these keys
building an ocean for you with my words,
but you don't feel like getting your feet wet.

I would throw a lasso over the moon,
rap all my feelings for you up in it
and then bring it down to you with
all the reason I love you etched into the sand
and you'd reply, my efforts are just way too much.

I am willing to do almost anything within reason for you
but your eyes are so blinded by the circumstance that surrounds you
that you have trouble believing anything I say to you.

It seems as if I am too much, and not enough all in the same breath.
and I'm done trying to make you realize these metaphors are not just
metaphors and over exaggerations, they are how I feel.
So if this is too much, or somehow not enough
can't say I didn't ******* try.