Splinters and Bawling

During the day

I'm not thinking about you. 

I'm thinking about everything but you.

I don't think about you like papers think about pens

like rivers think about bends

like farmers think about hens.

I don't think about you like wood thinks about fire

like stores think about buyers

like Ms. J thinks about choir.

I don't think about you like that.

I don't think about you like basketballs think about dunks

like music thinks about funk

like my grandma thinks I'm a punk.

I don't think about you like rocks think about scissors

like feet think about splinters

like Mr. Nelson thinks about the beginners

that suck.

I don't think about you like that.

But during the night, 

while I lie awake in bed,

I'll admit to thinking about you.

I can't stop thinking about you.

I'm thinking about you like cd's think about burning

like pages think about turning

like children think about learning.

I'm thinking about you like nerds think about quirks

like girls think about jerks

like creeps think about where to lurk.

I think about you like that.

I'm thinking about you like leaves think about falling

like babies think about crawling

like I think about bawling.

I'm thinking about you like customers think about complaints

like walls think about paint

like you think about restraint.

I think about you like that.

You see, I think about you.

I think about you a lot.

I think about you like.. A Lot. 

Now will you stop asking?