This one is not a particularly deep thought kind of poem
In fact it's pretty simple
So did I make you crazy, or were you that way to start?
How am I the magnet, for all men like you
who are temporarily lost, confused, and needing?
How am I the magnet for your most simple and guttural fantasies?
And why am I always your escape hatch?
Because, as much as you'd like to think this is about just you,
It's about you times four.
This pattern is mine.
Like a floating curtain in a tropical breeze,
you duck into the folds of my emotion
escaping, elevating, intuiting
And then you wake up.
And I was a vacation.
So please, tell me
did I make you crazy, or were you that way to start?
And which is worse?