Entitled.

I try to do as I would like to be done onto

Really, I do.

I tell the people I love that I love them as much as I can

even though I've been told that It loses its meaning

But, I implore you to see that this "dead horse" is merely sleeping

I'll say those three words repeatedly

So that maybe if choosing between living or thinking her last thought

She'll somehow think of me

And at least delay the inevitable cleansing of a mind decaying weekly

I say so weakly

Because I almost realized too late

Maybe it was the fog on the mirror that prevented me from seeing this dilemma take shape

Maybe it was the fear of losing you that caused me to half-ass your escape

But now I see, better me losing you metaphorically

Than everyone losing you in reality

If this freaks you out, then fine, run away from me

But run to a place where you can truly be free

Where you can walk through a garden

And feel entitled because it was you who planted those seeds

See? So much outward love-fueled expression.

I guess my inbox must be full or something...

I guess I need to clear some space

But yet again I hear that disembodied female voice say:

"You have no new messages."