maybe.a.little.poetry.

you pull me down
and drown me out
and run me over
in a good way
you make me smile
i make me slip
i let you
have your own say
turning over
in the summer
blankets filled with ants
burning deeper
then the winter
taking every chance
having every dance
its a new way to think
way to breathe
way to stitch
way to mend
and paint
and draw
and knit
i am not who i want
you are not who i am
we are growing
growing
falling
into something new and fresh
making new ones
killing old ones
set fire to the past
watch it melt into
the colors that
i thought would always last.