his love

his love is like a Sharpie marker’s ink
it claims to be permanent but when it touches me
all it takes is a little bit of wear and ran under a faucet’s leak

his love is like water
it comes in so many forms
all it takes is one bad day for him to boil you with his rage

his love is like poetry
some days it rhymes and echoes after my words
i love being in sync, but other days he does his own things

his love is like the fourth of July
it’s beautiful and haunts every star in the night sky
but hurts my ears, leaves me deaf, and at some point completely leaves

his love is like waiting for a train to take you away
but it never really comes
so you think that maybe you’ll try again another day

his love is like Denver’s weather
unpredictable, without will, and working to change how you view seasons
he will give you his all, but change what his all exactly is

and must I say his love is like a heart that never aches
it doesn’t really exist
but I cherish it anyway

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