I can't get over you*
But I hate you.
You hardly come around.
I used to date you when your time frame was more abrupt
You'd show up with a kiss and a hug
Give me the gift of love
With no glove on, just pure touch
Pushing your button and gripping you tight
We used to get by
You'd always take me back
For the very last time
Stuck between whether it's wrong or its right
Being this naked
We'd always fight and when it was amazing, even they loved it.
From cover to cover, our bed was made up and it read like this:
"Here lies Poetry and her Poet, God rest their souls on crumpled paper"*
If we make it
And our love is a mainstream instrumental, will you come back and talk to me or will you choke me on your lies,
All your promises meeting their demise in a pair of telling deceitful eyes that I couldn't draw
The paper might rip in these hands made of straw
But the years will drag on with me gripping two halves beyond repair trying to grasp the reality of your infidelity
