Y - Yours, Just Yours

He:	You know I am angry with you, right?
She:	Yup, I know. I am just unsure of the reason this time
He:	Why can't you be mine, just mine? I don’t really like it when you talk about your other 'guy' friends
She:	Isn't this hypocrisy coming from you who goes around with a new woman every other month?
He:	I know. But you do know that I can be yours, just yours
She:	Just mine?
He:	Just yours. Do you want me to be?
She:	Nope
He:	No??
She:	No. I don’t want you to be just mine. Because you overwhelm me and exhaust me at the same time. You fill me up and empty me - together. I do not want to own you and I want to own you, both at the same time. Because you are to me what poetry is to poets! We poets are obsessed about our poetry. We love it and hate it at the same time. We marvel at it sometimes, and cringe too. We want others to love our poetry, but we also fear thinking we won't be the only one who shall love it. We want to showcase it to the world, flaunt it, make people jealous of it, but we also want to keep it shut inside the corners of our heart not letting people know what we possess. Poetry... you are my poetry This post is written as a part of April A to Z Challenge - 2015