Clichés

A wonderful, but curious trait about you, 
is you make clichés come to be.
My digestive system wrought with chrysalis, 
as butterflies emerge inside of me! 
And now I suffocate, so breathless, 
for you steal my air when you are near. 
I don’t see you creeping up you see, 
distracted by birds that suddenly appear! 
My legs have turned gelatinous 
but my knees stay firm to knock. 
and in your absence, fondness intensifies
with each tick of the clock. 
My heart is doing track and field, 
but his long jump skip is out of whack. 
When you’re around the world seems bright, 
but when you’re not it fades to black. 

Myriad clichés emerge when feelings fight with reason. 
As my brain, deciding it’s had enough, commits an act of treason.
And allows my feelings to run rampant, and from then on I find 
that I can’t see a fucking thing. For it is truly blind.