I get so nervous when I love something
And I put it down
And I leave it
Thinking that I must be leaving for good
Instead of merely
enjoying something else

I worry that I will never have anything forever
And I wonder
If that is why I love things so deeply
When I have them

I love them so hard
I tear them apart
So they don't do it to me first

But they do
We do
We tear each other apart

So yes
I leave them after
With regret and remorseful
But satisfied

But if it's special enough
I find myself back at it's door
Knocking
Hat in hand

Wondering if it's been worried I
Also wouldn't return

I worry when it opens the door
They will slam it
Before I can say I am sorry I left
And how much I missed it

I worry I am the only one
Who thinks about the death of love
While in the middle of it

But it does too
It always does too

And in my fear
Its so loud that
I can never hear
It whispering to me
I'll miss you
And I'll see you when you get back