I'm sorry Ms. Jackson...never meant to make your young boy cry,
but you see we never really knew what this thing called love was,
we played with fire, knew time and time again that it can burn,
but we left the risk behind it and for the moments we were willing to hurt and learn.
See we were never meant for broken hearts,
we were never meant for tearful nights,
we were never in it for the deep conversations but for the carnal sensations.
We were never looking for this love to bite...
We never expected I to be nonexistant, we never thought we can be as one,
everytime he'd hurt, I'd gasp as if someone had stolen my lungs.
I cannot fathom, comprehend or process just how he consumed my soul,
never thought that the deep tones his fingers would massage upon my back would be the element to screw my reason.
Never really thought that he'd have me past midnight counting how many ways I can make him smile and how many times in one day I can see him.
Oh he made me sing some blues to his name, made me recite brother to the night,
and even though he was the blues in my left thigh, he also became the funk in my right.
Like two young children we fell into webs of jungle gyms,
Monkey barred our way across levels where our feet were elevated,
and even did the leg pop when we kissed.
We fell into love, like Alice fell into that god-forsaken hole,
we did not have a bunny rabbit, so we had no idea where time would go.
Hopscotch love is what we deemed it,
cops and robbers never had a reason,
freeze tag made us realize that when we'd be free our hearts would excel and tease us.
We had some type of puppy love,
something grown folks couldn't comprehend,
Ms. Jackson I made your young boy cry as he and I were only friends.
But now I buy fake rub off tattoos to soak across my veins, because this love is so much more real than grown folks can comprehend.
We never were expecting for love to bite,
we never were expecting to love this hard,
and when I said red light, red light, green light,
we had the best accident thus far...we fell in love with the children inside our souls and our love was deeper than hands can fold...
Know Ms. Jackson that the tears your young boy cries, I've cried and those tears are tears of love and within each other we will find ways to make sense of this Mosaic of Eternal Childhood Love.