It’s Nothing.

You aren’t afraid of the blue in my eyes,
like I have no fear of that flash of your grin;
You have no problem with keeping the flow,
I have no problem putting out the rhythm.
Your ways never cease to amaze me,
and I never fail to let you come in;
You never wait to plunder my riches,
I never fail to invite you back again.
Yours isn’t a story all that sad to tell,
mine is just too bad to talk about;
Ours is just a sweaty, naked one,
with no dialogue to be written out.
You aren’t put off by the only way that I love,
I’m never offended by the lack on your end;
You never care when I don’t show up,
I am never forced to lie or pretend.
You are so wholesome and pure to the brim,
I am just non-bio-degradable pond-scum;
so it goes, this show of such voided hollow,
until we’ve both found ourselves outdone.