Well it seemed for a while like I had the upper-hand.
You were looking for fun and I was fairly detached.
To play along – in hindsight, that was the plan.
But the tricks to this game my heart couldn’t understand.
Now incessantly it pulls at its dangling threads.
Wrenching and plucking its ornate mesh,
Ripping frayed fabric to fragile shreds,
Weaving tassels to braid a bridge to your breast.
These patterns criss-crossing unconsciously stitched,
Love-cords entwining to get hearts hitched,
Never meant to be woven one-way strings,
Patiently waiting for your strands to spring.
Except baby I know I’m not the one.
Soon you’ll unravel yarns lovingly spun.
You’ll go look for other avenues of fun,
And I’ll inevitably follow, wherever you run.
Praying these strings someday come undone.