I would wait
I would walk
I would run
and steal
I’d lie through my teeth
I would give you all the chances in the world
I would kiss you,
though I know you don’t want me to
I would read you my poems
and listen to each of your songs
If you were a church
I would pretend to be Christian
If you were a train
I would board without asking
where it was going
I wouldn’t get off until the end
You made me believe—
Haunted as I am by the hope you gave me—
that my heart hadn’t lost its key
But you’re not a church,
you’ll never be a train
I have to close your door in my brain