When We Are Black And White

A mark on a window.
I know I inconvenience you, would I be so naive,
Of course. I build and build, brick on brick.
I do it for the reaction, the frustration, desolation.

Love, I love you.
Just days get monotones, I dread to think.
Will I turn this way, as young as I am,
I will grow old, will I grow redundant?

Time? Why would I need time.
I am young, I am a fire, use time flippantly.
Burn and burn, till I have nothing left.
Then I wait, and Boredom pools in my pit.

I know I inconvenience you,
But your the gas to my flame,
The lamb I sacrifice selfishly almost weekly.
I know can hurt you, drive you wild with fury

But one day we will be old, my fire will have burnt out, and I will have bled you dry.
And we will miss the smashes of flame and blood in our black and white life.