For all the smoke we put up, I’ll admit it was never much,
Not the flames it should have been, just a small, coveted spark
And for all my fanning, blowing, tending, it was yet too hot to touch,
But I swear this was never meant to be such a farce.
What’s oh-so-hilarious is that you’ve never realized the game
That I played like a mean-spirited child with a false set of voodoo dolls
And how high the stakes were for me, but you can no longer claim
To be the one Joshua who crumbles my dark stony walls.
Still, I promise to never blame you for this, my dear,
Because for all of your unmeasurable, ineffable strength and charms,
Qualities beyond compare, I review my praises to you and sense nothing but fear.
You deserve much higher elegies than I can lift with these weakened arms.
But I digress; it appears that an “Aromantic Asexual” is nothing you’d choose;
Yet I’ll never renounce the time I was given to love my Muse.