I give better when I’m receiving
don’t need you to believe me
and if I’m honest I don’t genuinely want to
give otherwise, unless it is a desperate act to
keep the one I adore
love’s whore
and then suddenly I want to give all of the time
no need for reasoning when you’ve got the rhyme
to beat off the feeling that he’ll leave
I’ve got Cupid’s arrow under my sleeve
because someone else was willing to give more than me
and I can’t have that be
his sole reason
to choose sexual treason
and in my mind I am receiving, more than in a reciprocal way,
I’m getting to live in a fantasy that is in my head every hour of every bloody day
in my real life and make memories that I can call upon in the darkest times when he’ll be gone because he will, he has to, or he’d still be mine then
if he didn’t, my limits might truly be tested
and they never have been, I’ve never emptied yet
because I can still give so much more,
pleasure is half the score
but if I don’t have to, then I don’t
because I don’t want nothing from him and I won’t
or I would and he couldn’t even stop me
it’s the honey trap of reciprocity that’s the dooming
nobody can stop me
love me back if you feel like killing
he’ll see then, won’t he
make him see baby and do it slowly
I give better when I’m receiving
don’t need you to start believing
My Mind, My Mood, My delicately poisoned pen... 