Heavy The Head Poem by Ibn Ali

Could it ever be?
Perhaps, it was never meant for you and me
My mot-juste
My, Caramel queen
You set and spread
In your sweetness is death
Lines the veins and blood constrains
And in my weakness your strenght
You enervate
You cleaved an impasse and made a way when no other path was left
Now I'm dependant
Regret is 5'5'
With brown eyes
And her name is never spoken
But I call her
When she heard me say my queen
There's no mistaking
She was the first to turn
She knows
That title for her, is hers
That title for her, is earned,
In tears, brewed in emotion
She sipped the poison that I spewed and stayed
My appreciation for her is complete
My queen
Only distance separates
But I'm from you
And you, in part, from me