the telephone rings rings rings
to the point i want to shoot shoot shoot myself
and point of my elation is over
as i feel for the reciever and find no one there
i struggle to support the weight of myself
but i promise im shedding it
and im ready for heavier loads
im talking haute scorpios with blue eyes
one in particular the only one i know
ive loved and i and i and i love
forevermore my love
until bittersweet tragedy
or the unlikelyhood of our immortalis
failing
sailing in the clouds
did i mention you took me there
oh to cloud nine
not just heaven
but friction that burns hotter than hell
and i swear and i and i and i swear
myself is yours
i am your own personal arrogant poet
with my own little insecurties
that i spawn from my head
full of ideas
but the irony is the most dangerous ones
include just me and you
and no one else
did i mention i love you sweet darling angel of my dreams
and that i will stay with you
even through all your arguments
and my petty scwabbles
we end them in 'i love yous' and 'im sorrys'
enveloped in hugs and sealed in kisses
and like cairpre the bard of fincaryra
who i doubt anyone knows...
i too have problems ending my poems but ill try my best
to hope to aspire to be like my favorite poet
this lovely girl who beats all of the swabby pirate-esses i may find
you are my love my best friend and my scorpion
pleasant be your stay with me
[and i choose my fav. cliche]
for with you my love feels free [unconditional love]