With limbs shorter than my resolve
Have opened windows higher than the expectancy of love.
I've painted white walls in crimson jealousy
Circles for the one I miss
Lowering my expectancy
Ripped wings from winds of the foreign leaf of bitterness
Hands strong from carrying this river of regret
I let it slip through withered but renewed fingers
Honey! I take mountains and move them with my love.
Aged and buried, responsive yet careless
Ask all my exes about the mark of their stigma
Your head, like theirs,
Would turn white at the curse to try to tame such an enigma
So I pace my heart without the challenge of speed
Tired of giving it what it wants,
I only feed it what it needs
While waiting for the one who can actually read directions
"Handle with care."