The hopeless romantic,
gagged and bound,
locked up in the basement
is scratching love poems
under my feet
on her ceiling
Two sides of the same coin
I wish it flipped
so she can come up here,
trade places with me
Once upon a time
her basement was mine
Me her prisoner, and she, my queen
I love her enough
to willingly lock myself up again
Let her rule
Let her build a world
and destroy it if it comes to that
than listening to her
breaking her nails
scratching away her love,
her pain, her hopes,
my conscience
in these silent, holy nights
But she'd have to wait.
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