I Thought Perhaps You Contained Multitudes Too, Dude.

I just,

I just can’t.

I think you understand.

I can’t pretend that we are friends.

I can’t pretend that I don’t think about you

As more than an acquaintance.

I am in love with so many things,

I love endlessly, but it doesn’t

Make sense to me. I shouldn’t be. I am.

I could never give you

All of me, which I think is

What you will expect from me. I am

So much, you see. I am

Too much for any single plate–

I am a massive commitment,

A lifetime fulfillment.

I cannot possibly be contained

To one experience, one love

One soul’s mate or one soul’s glove

I am passion

I am loyalty

I am intensity and I am too much

For mere mortals. I have found someone

Who loves being over-stimulated

And she contains multitudes

I thought perhaps you contained multitudes too, dude.

I guess you are more simple and

I kinda wish I knew you were being

Sampled by people who can taste

The real you. Why do I care?

Why am I so interested

In forgiving someone who is too stupid

To know that I am downright

Omnipotent? Oh–right–

I forgot to renew my fucking health insurance

And fucked it all to hell

Clearly I’m not a genius, I think I might be

Idiot of the year.

I would be the pot that called

The kettle black but I can’t afford

Pot or anything to put in my kettle

So I’m kinda sad I brought it up.

 


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