My Living Proof

You insist and persist that one day I’ll hate you,

when I’m head over heels,

keep my hands behind my back so they won’t search for you,

literally, in love with you, right now,

but frustrated, as mad as the Hatter with the situation, the circumstances,

the stupidity of missed chances,

because, personally, if I met someone

who made me feel the way you claim I make you feel,

then I would do anything, everything, fuck it all, to keep them,

my living proof being you and me, and everything in between.