I know my clinging to your hairy limbs
like I’ve been copy and pasted there
like my placement

(means nothing more,
or everything less
if you don’t cling back)

dividing you into a mindset
that I am a constant,
that I am here

like some dumb lolly girl who sticks.

Don’t pop,
when I won’t let you suck the life out of me anymore.

Appreciate my scars, my kiss,
the wordy poems I bring you.

If you take them for granted

I’ll be gone before you
can count you’re licks,

or recognize your blessings.


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