Why is it that conversation with you expires quickly?
Is it the burning itch to cuss that turns me off?
Or is it that the syllables that dance on your lips can't glide over mine when we kiss?
Either way I find myself to be very conflicted when we whisper temporary sweet somethings to each other.
Our arguments are as consistent as the birds the chirp at the break of dawn.
Our love, or whatever it is that we call it, is as seasonal as the ever changing climate.
Everything we can think of screams at us we shouldn't be together.
And yet we somehow still find a way to make it work.
Lapsing months with you have proven time and time again,
that if something is truly worth fighting for then it becomes futile fighting against it.
T