It's like you found yourself homeless
so you took residence in my head.
It's like you feed off of my sensibility
and infest my sense of pride.
My brilliance is mid recession.
I'm tangled in the obsession of what
ifs. If I evict you, I won't be the same
but I haven't figured out if this
it the best or worst thing that has settled
in my brain. I could oust and ostracize
for the sake of my independence.
But what ifs, what ifs, if this is some
thing more than the mind and yet some
thing I like. Like something of the heart.
No, I won't speak it. It is but a thought,
(love).
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