The Nails Head Is Present But You’re Fucked Without Your Hammer

I did not intentionally delude

My fire does not blow ash on you

Silly boy

Where were you when the smile would make her wince

Advice so rinsed

A heart so minced.

 

For you, never assumed

My greed

Not once would I class you as something such as a reed

Wear a mask the way in which I hand picked my tweed suit.

 

At the chance of love

I would bite my tongue

In fear that I may utter something that leads to commitment

I’d spread you like butter

Consider if I’m a nutter

Didn’t quite catch what I said

When it matters I may begin to mutter.