I love you like the winter hates the spring:Because it’s hot and wild and full of youth.
I want you like a lie wants everything
To kneel to its perversion of the truth.
I think of you the way life thinks of death:
As something that will end my lonely state.
I reach for you the way lungs reach for breath
When a man tries not to asphyxiate.
I need you like the healthy need no cure.
I venerate you like Scrooge covets gold.
I fear you like an angel trusts the pure.
I worship you like youth pities the old.
From one to ten, I love you at eleven
The way hell hates all things that smell of heaven.
Copyright 2013 Matthew J Wells