so that even a memory couldn’t be used against me.
I will no longer date, socialize or communicate with carbon copies of you to appease my boredom or quench my thirsty desire for attention of short-lived comments from ‘sorta kinda’s’. You know he’s sorta-kinda right, but sorta kinda wrong. His first name Luke his last name Warm.”
— Janette Ikz
The third rule was not to use his label in vain
So, if he is love then love is the name.
Just take a step back and realize
That this idea has been disguised
By hiding pride and saying things right,
Sweet goodmornings, even sweeter goodnights.
PDA and baby’s and boo’s
And I need you and I love you too’s
You take it lightly and break the law,
You say you love me then search for more.
And you shall not use his name in vain
‘Cause if he is love then he can’t be pain.
And he will not hold you guiltless if you do
Exodus chapter ten times two.
He said it was patient and said it was kind
Curiously I rushed to find
It, buried within the uncomfortable truth
That it was just a lesson waiting for you
To learn how it’s supposed to be,
Unconditionally set aside for me.
So now I begin to cherish delay
And obey because this time portrays
The criteria needed to converse with me
Before I let another touch the key
To my heart, carefully guarded by my father; by Love
Who sits above and calls your bluff,
If you’re a counterfeit and a thief of peace,
I’ll know you weren’t designed for me.
He won’t even come close. Our fingers won’t even interlock. We won’t even exchange breath.