Love Is

Love is like the ocean,
love is like the trees,
love is like the palms,
swaying in the breeze.

I want to be the flowers,
the birds and the bees.
I wish I wasn't lonely,
I wish that he would see,
what so plainly lays before me,
whose words I know hold true
but I was made for him,
and he was made for you.

Whatever he left me has been taken back,
and all of those “I love you”s,
he claims he never said.
When he takes you by the hand,
I watch you turning red.
It. Is so. Abhorrent.

If I was any stronger, I'm telling you I'd see
the pieces that you placed,
so that he could be with me.
How intricate the patterns were, the patters that you drew,
the pieces of the puzzle
that lead him straight to you.