Can i tell you I don't love you
when i really do?
can you ask me?
because of the chance that i may say yes
and it may change your life
but not in a good way?
and in ten thousand years
who the fuck
has ever figured out
what love is
other than how i feel about you?
and that could change
on a postage stamp
but still
i would rather love
and feel that joy
isn't that what everyone eventually says
life is all about?
there's more to this poem
but it's up to you
to write.
