Love Shot

My head is spinning in rounds,
At every idea of you.
I am feeling a little bound;
Like were stuck together like glue. 

Thrown together in a heap.
Lacks our notion or consent.
Stuck here having no place to leap,
To avoid all this discontent.

What am I supposed to do?
Now, to free myself from you.
I could just drive on through,
Or sit and wait while I stew. 

I could try and play it cool;
But would I lie like a fool.
No one would like that point of view.
Oh what am I supposed to do? 

By Evelyn Creon