One of my many phobias, love, have a poem paying homage to it in apology for ignoring you for a month.

There comes a time when I want to fly
To feel my wings reach the sky
And if I think I were to try
I may even dive and actually die

For even though love is only a game
A thing to play with nothing to claim
It’s only a sign you want something to blame
And I don’t even remember your name

And when you stop to think in the middle of the night
Of all the things that give you a fright
Remember that your love isn’t quite right
And that the dead will always bite


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