Lb Chameleon Poem by Belle Violet

I think
I'd jump ship
For this.
I think
I don't know
How I want things to go, yet,
but I'm determined
that
I won't
deplete it.
I think I'd rather explore it,
worst case, I enjoy it.
Like I enjoyed you.
But I won't
substitute
All my freedoms.
I want my nights, my thoughts,
and none of
the tedium.
I want
who I want
when I want them.
here lately, though, it's only
been him.
If I'm a tide, he's the moon.
If I'm a home, he's a room.
He's trickled Into
every
single valley
on my brain;
and he's around enough
that we play house.
He's healthy and wholesome.
He's gorgeous and sweet,
Adonis farm meat.
Just as doe-eyed
as that deer;
(second shelf,
all ground-up
and next to
the beer.)
That life would corrupt me
Or rather, reconstruct me
I think
he'd do
my body good,
Like milk.
And I think he'd burn me
alive;
Baptism by fire
As his perfect little wife.
And I think
I would die.
I admit, I like rockstar and sexy
over country sundressy,
I dont know
why
I just feel
better
Baltimore messy.
And I like sultry
over cute
I like witty and astute.
Over muscles and dimples
And adorably simple.
I like better
My lover
Like my heroin needle.
The kinda hook
That'll spear ya.
My Romeo
Knievel.
My dancing with danger.
My Chief,
And my candy,
my secret indulgence;
my cauldron
of trouble.
And, baby,
we bubbled.
Why can't
I write for him,
Like I write
for you?
I'm the tide.
He's the moon.
But then you,
are the sand;
swirling inside me
as I'm tugged by
his hand.
Therein
lies the perils
Of LB Chameleon.