mundane.

I dont want you to be a different man
I just want more of you
wich only says
I want you.
I am yours
and you dispose of me.
dont you understand,
m mother wouldnt like this
my father wouldnt either
i beg my god not to hate me
but he is superior
and he is merciful
I am yours
on the sidewalk
in the schoolyard
when I am suppose to build a career
I am yours
when I read my books
and most of all
most of goddamn all
when I drench my self
in the bits
and tips
and depths of psychosis
for a poem or two
I am yours
but you are young
and you are soft with dreams
and the way I cripple and clutter for you
is mundane.
one day I will not be yours
and non of this
will have ever been mundane.