My friendship with myself
Is so
It lights up my room
Sets my hair on fire
And I just watch
So bloody content
with myself

One could think it’s narcissistic
But I just like my dirty sheets
and my comfy socks
More than the uncomfort
Of outside space
Yes, interaction can be succulent too
But self-love is both
the giver and receiver
I am everything in a monologued
Love affair

Hot on a tin roof
Back home
In my Earth shaped heart
Rocking my feet up and down
The azure sky

I kiss myself
I laugh at that too
It’s like I’m a self obsessed schizo
And neither of us
Have ever felt a love
So true


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