Sense Sonnet - Steamer

 Picky

When you and I first became us,

I could tell you were stuck on me

For all the good, but now you fuss,

And stuck on all the bad you be.

You accuse me of being mean,

That you are such a victim now,

And so holier than thou clean,

Like this is all my fault somehow.

Picking petals with your teeth, hell,

A crazy way for you to choose

Love or love not, but let me tell

You that just I win and you lose.

Here's what the two of us have got,

You love me, and I love you not.