THE GAME OF WHAT IF.

Guys don’t like it when they’re called beautiful,
But what happens when they do pretty things,
When fvcking butterflies are all suddenly stubborn,
Stomachs feeling giddy and awfully hormonal,
The excitement and thrills that tag along with them,
It’s only fair to call them beautiful, perfect maybe,
The feels and chills that come with appreciation,
These could make insanity cave back to sanity.

There is this guy, this beautiful guy, my human,
Who has my heart and brain playing truth and dare,
But that’s not the problem, cuz I’m even excited,
Thing is, a lot of rounds have been played here,
So many dares completed, but the truths love,
All of them, the truths keep stopping at what ifs.
The game itself has rules, rules that must be followed,
Rules that can be bent, but in this case, they can’t.

I’m confused, I don’t know which side to stay on,
Maybe the gray side? But which would that be?
The brain has reasonable points, excuses maybe,
The heart, it’s got beautiful emotional responses,
I’m tempted to say yes to everything, every bit,
But I’m also stuck like my truths at what if,
Yet all this is part of me, and the ceiling I’m staring at,
Could probably be bearing holes, large holes,
From how long I’ve been staring at it, but what if?

If the heart was to take control and the brain, rest,
If the dark souls were to receive light, brightness,
If realities were switched and walls broken,
If secrets were to see the light after so long,
If push came to shove, and walk to run,
If friendship came to love and lust,
If the “what ifs” were ignored or done away with,
Then what would happen then, tell me.

If a back was to meet a wall, or a bed or even a bathtub,
And skins pushed to touch, hormones on overkill,
Noses hilariously colliding, steps faltered,
Hands doing traces, dangerous tingly traces,
Tongues fighting tongues, chests hitting chests,
Bold truths prickly, perseverance an ugly front,
Realities colliding, what would happen then?
Would someone stop, or would they put it off?

Would the walls cave in, or the ceilings stay put,
Would the kisses be fervent or strained a lot,
Would the universe ruin the moments at hand,
Would the fates seek us out or will we be judged?
My heart and brain are stranded, the truths suck,
The what if questions have my temperatures hot,
My human has me suffering, but somehow I like it,
It’s confusing, but such is life, beautiful lives,
Lives trapped in the game of what if, and if only.