You know you make me.
I know you break me.
The character of love isn’t a pawn, no, you will never change, midnight till dawn.
A place where you comprise my little needs.
Molding the clay while I wish for sleep, building an undesired bowl it seems to me.
Spill water inside.
Holes and cracks.
Do you see?
No matter where I go, you pryingly always know.
Lessons of a mind, buried deep, confusion, seclusion, animosity at your feet.
Where in your head do you nod at this immorality, my own human right isn’t your emotional practicality.
It wasn’t mean to be.