PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I couldn't do much, and it hung over my head

We shot up your mailbox, I only hit once and you called me the

one hit wonder

I left something in your bed, right before I fell off of it

It's white and don't worry, it will wash right out

But you know, it's your fault that it got there and

it's your fault that I'm angry because

I found something really good and you're not

going to let me hold it the way that I want to

There's a bottom line here, and it's blunt and simple:



My heart is starting to get involved.



But you made it clear, after the second go round that

yours wasn't in it and we'd make good friends

And I gladly pretended to agree

There wasnt much else to do and I believed that

Sundays could change everything

So I kept coming over, and I've let you touch me further then a friend

And you asked "where does that leave us"?  "friends with benefits"?



Yeah, I guess.



There's not much else if I

want to keep you around

but it's fucking me up to the point where I will

leave without warning sooner or later and

you'll feel up the other half of your bed and I won't be there