You seem a professional

Reading between lines

Tracing topography

You carve so carelessly

Cockiness that comes

From doing the same thing

Ages far too long

Too stuck in your ways

To see different paths

Valleys and mountains

You depict symbols

Matching the false key

A facade to my

Ever broken heart

You believe the earth flat

Ne’er ‘round emotionally

Not dimensions’ globe

Perhaps you’re a farmer

Tilling toxic love in rows

Poisoned by sickly earth

To ugly bloom or shrivel

You, the sole harvester

Reaping fruits of my love

For your pitiful ego

Every valve you puncture

To sow loyalty with guilt

With arteries you map wrong

They pierce my very soul

I’ll call our love what it is

It festers foul and noxious

Beating up heart and mind

Your maps look all shaky

And infertile are your farms

But I cannot pull away

Still find me in your arms