The consequence of loving me by Cali Taylor

He thought he knew me

so he touched my throat,

expecting a kiss.

But I whisked him away

like an apple off a tree,

the consequence 

of loving me.

He thought I cared

so he shared

his deepest creepy secret.

In my head is mushroomed—

into a balloon

and then it popped—

the secret was set free,

the consequence 

of loving me.

He thought I could change

my bitchy, witchy ways.

He thought I’d listen to him whisper

when he said I was a blister

But instead I sang him off

with my snitchy melody

the consequence 

of loving me.

My lesson to you

if you think I am sweet

and you want to meet me

don’t,

because I stab backs

and I never relax

until the climax

where I hit 

you, tittering in shock.

The happiness you wish

will never really be

the consequence 

of loving me.