I Only Adore You

I toss your roses to the dirt,
and watch as you smile and weep,
smile and weep again, and fall away.
Poor boy, you know I only adore you,
only to the point of my own extinction.
And when I cry on my porch at night,
It's not because I miss you too much.
It's not because I have you on my mind.
My heart has never had the gentle capacity
of waiting on a table-for-two.
Call it selfishness. Call it a plea for help.
But poetic melancholy is the substance of my life,
torment, grief, dissatisfaction, and yet..
I like it that way, as perverse as it is.
So, dear boy, who loves unconditionally,
you know I only adore you,
only to the point of my own extinction.