You Like Things Perfect Poem by Belle Violet

You like things perfect
and I like them real.
You like to fantasize
and I like to feel.
You think it's perfectly rational
to be shocked that I crashed for you,
knowing all the while
that was not allowed.
I'd wait, I told you,
I said it before.
I'd wait 'cause I'm dumb?
What's waiting for one more?
I get love sick
and love struck,
strung out on obsession,
and let's not forget mentioning
my wicked, little flings.
I can accept one wholeheartedly,
accept all apologies,
and be loyal,
and so damned unfulfilled.
I'm fickle and greedy,
affectionately needy,
but I won't settle for less than my Romeo.
You'd both think it's stupid,
and I assure you, your rudeness
on the subject at matter
throws my chi down in clatters.
And I wonder if there's no way to
infuse
the two of you
into one appreciable, fully
respectable man.
I concede this is lofty but
hold off on the scoffing just
til you've heard my side.
In a nutshell, you're a man shell with babies
I don't need.
And I'd never stop wondering if you'd stray
or you'd leave.
You'll get old fast.
Require baths.
And I'll hate that you're right when you are.
I could laugh at you for hours
and would prefer your mouth to flowers.
I do wonder if I've loved you before.