Rather than chase
floating butterflies
I'll run from stinging bees.
I want
and love you, but I can
barely even move
or sleep
because of this aching in my core
everytime I imagine you kissing
someone else, moaning beneath
another hunk of flesh.
I know because I don't know;
even if I knew it'd be the same:
I only want you.
I don't try to find another
because
I find you
in every place I look.
You have that spark;
that pensive eye!
Until you remember you love
the attention of others
focused on you.
You want
the biggest slice of cake
and I want to bake
(only for you).
I'm done
when you are.
Yes, I'm running. Sorry.
I will return for more.
For now, I must spare myself
reduction to a giant
open sore
Have your fun a while.
I'll keep the light on by the door
but don't knock at too late an hour;
I might have
company over.
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Fine metaphors good sir. Upvoted
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