Dear Emily Dickinson

Do you find me beautiful? Do you still want me around? It's hard to read your thoughts When I fall asleep next to myself And you gave me Emily I gave you movie screens Asked you to marry me I wasn't thinking clearly I'm not a martyr I'm not a saint I never said that I was perfect Never said you were to blame I wrote you poetry About the way we kissed I guess its been a while I just write grocery lists Can you please get these things On your way from work? I wanna cook us dinner And make love afterwards I'm not a martyr I'm not a saint I never said that I was perfect Never said you were to blame When that which is And that which was Apart, intrinsic, stand I'm still loving you the same Yeah I’m still loving you the same Yeah I’m still loving you the same Yeah I’m still loving you the same Yeah I’m still loving you the same