What I Don’t Know

Is whether you think of me as a huckster, trickster or silent conspirator,
Because you always come and go like a star at the rodeo and I’m just left here — babysitter
I have a limit to how much of your gambit I am willing to submit to, but I don’t know,
If you care at all about it, there is certainly no way to know.

Is if you ever really thought of it as deeply as I did,
Sure you may have wished upon a shooting star and thought it would get you far,
But did it?
You really leave me wondering if all this chatting, texting and vibing has been worth it.

Is whether you see me for anything other than a reliever — a relentless giver — as you pick up everything I signal and send nothing back: receiver?
Am I anything more than a plaything that you ignore like a child bored and eager to explore?
Of all the things that I abhor, nothing comes close to how much I loath that I adore your core,
This part of you that defies all your lies by being indestructibly soft and irresistibly warm,
But what is it to be so if you never let me touch your true aura and just bluster when I come closer?
I’m flustered and honestly tired of exposure to your incomprehensible inability to offer full disclosure

But what I definitely don’t know is if I’m ready,

To be anything other than

Yours in perpetuity,

Evans Mbora Campbell.

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