Crumbly Baggage Sucks

He will leave me low he will leave me not ... oh, flower, do your petals know? If I sleep with him, sparks won't keep; knowing my truth, he'll cut me loose. Each day and night, I plot and plan to avoid sleeping snuggled with my man. He has love's need to cuddle bed deep but I know he'll either laugh or weep. Flower, to him I'll confide I'm ever wishin' that a garage door sealed my kitchen. Smiling, I'll say I sleep-eat; wake with berries in my hair and bits of eclair. I'll tell him lowering sheets may expose chip bits and also relief there are no dips. I'll say I eat unaware and can't be woken, but will he run after I've spoken? Once I've told of sleep crumbs, I have to tell him I sleep sucking my tongue. Putting another smile on my face, I'll say my fingertips rub my pillowcase. I wasn't breast fed so, I fell in this mold and my tongue noise is loud, I'm told. The pillowcase must be my mother's skin and sucking my way of drinking in. Flower, will he cuddle in my bed, knowing I'll chew, suck and rub near his head? I'll leave out that scratching the end of my spine makes me go pee, every time. He will leave me low, he will leave me not, he will leave .... running with all he's got.