Poetry: My Love, My Enemy

Poetry.

My Love, my enemy.

I can love without you,

But I hate when I do.

Poetry.

My Love, my enemy.

Why, oh, why are you so… cruel?

 Poetry. You’re found in everything I do,

Which is why the only woman I need in this world is you.
I love how the tongue behind your seductive lips
Slips me a French *muaw*
To my unimaginative brain.
Now I see the world in high definition imagery.
Plenty of metaphors and similes
For me to wrap up in a heartbeat
Like that “Cold World” rhyme.
Lyrically, I’m at my prime,
But missing a Mrs.
I’m waiting at the altar,
But you never show up;
You’re off kissing
Someone else.
Do you like being a mistress?
’Cause if so, I don’t know
What I’d do.
You used to be heartfelt.
Now, it’s like your heart failed
Or could it have been mine?

 Poetry.

My Love, my enemy.

I can love without you,

But I hate when I do.

Poetry.

My Love, my enemy.

Why, oh, why are you so… cruel?

 Thought we shared true rhyme,

But you left me in a state of assonance.
You were my muse,
But I skewered your presence,
Ignored your blues.
I had the audacity to be confused
When you left,
Expressing your free verse.
Those precious footsteps
Pitter pattering out the house
How many meters into the street?
Perfect rhythm like a melody within a beat,
Lyrics voicing the song’s creed.
Can you ever forgive my iniquity?
Your ubiquity is killing me;
It’s everywhere except between these bed sheets,
Now a cold place blessed with disgrace
Like a sinner unable to grasp hold of his faith.
I keep mementos of us inside a CD case,
Recorded songs back when we were great.
Love conquered like Alexander,
But was as sweet as…

Poetry.

My Love, my enemy.

I can love without you,

But I hate when I do.

Poetry.

My Love, my enemy.

Why, oh, why are you so… cruel?

 Let’s not forget the past.

Reel it in to the present.
This love is destined
To be, to be, to be
Full of conflict,
But more importantly,
Resolution.
All poetic stories of intrigue
Fall into a certain category
Called restitution.
So return to me,
To us, to “we,”
Together can create anything—
At least as far as imagery.
Your pad, my pen.
Let’s put this reticence to an end.
Strip down to your brown skin
Like India Arie.
All we need
Is a bed of metaphors
And a thick sheet of similes
To give us an abstract,
But comfortable meaning.
If you’re down, meet me
In poetic aria…

Poetry.

My Love, my enemy.

I can love without you, but I hate when I do.

Poetry.

My Love, my enemy.

Why, oh, why are you so… cruel?