At that moment,
you were a metaphor;
a face,
a mask,
for everything
I need, desire.

At the moment,
you are my scapegoat;
a place to go,
a direction in which to throw
everything
he should've been.

In that moment,
you will rise to my smile;
my eyes,
my heart
to be all
I deserve.

everyone i've written about
has left me.
so you must understand
why i will not immortalize you
with my words,
why i won't turn you
into a poem.

maybe this way
you'll stay.

"I love you to death,"
he said.



"I love you for life,"
she replied.

This poem has a message....


                                       F
                            u        ck         o
                          f            f             F
                        u             ck           O
                       f              f                F
                      u        ­      ck               o
                      f                f­                 F
                       u              ck               o
                         f             f                F
                          u           ck      ­      o
                            f           F           u
                              c        k          o­
                                        ff
                     ­                   F
                                        U
  ­                                      C
                         ­               K
                                        F
      ­                                  A
                             ­           C
                                        E
          ­                               !