My King.
You’re probably writing
Sonnets for
Some random girl.
Telling her
How you’re
Going to
Give her the world.
Convincing yourself
That you love her.
Listen
You better
Light those up
And watch while
They burn —
Stop playing around,
Kind Sir
And see sense
And return
Home
To me.
Where you’re
Needed,
I’ve grown weary
And depleted
In your absence
From me.
While you’ve been
Trying to feed
Your soul —
A role
Designed
Just for me.
I already know
That I don’t
Come packaged in
The aesthetic of
Your mold
But I am magic.
I am gold.
A Queen
Made
For your throne.
Listen,
“I don’t want your
Money,
Honey,
I want your love!”
And our time
Together,
Believe it.
So
Come write
For me
And mean it —
JaneAuthor 