i'd love you to sway me, like you had once a time ago,
sometimes i hope you'll come back, and be the person i know.
but then it hits me, that you are gone for good.
and all i have is this substance
of what you think we've misunderstood.
i do know you, because you are like me.
and i thank you for being my poetry.
don't stop being cruel or harsh.
don't soften the blunts of your words, and don't try to weigh thought on your moves.
if you did, i'd have nothing to prove.
if you did, i would have nothing to say, i'd have nothing to write, i would feel no way.
if you said what i'd hoped, then i would hope no more.
i would get what i want,
and trying would be a bore.
if you gave me that sweet minute, that i've wanted all along,
i'd be missing out on that moment where everything you did was wrong.
and in your errors where i can find desire to strive
my plans of how to win you, i secretly contrive.
