I Confine You In My Arms

Living with me makes you claustrophobic Too exposed one day you may have blue toes. I confine you in my arms. I constrict your airway, you say. The room is too small. My mood is too heavy to bear fruit. I am the sour to your sweet But yet I am incomplete. Like a Hoover without any suction. Like a stagnant river when it loses its flow. It all depends on how you treat me. Like parched geranium losing all its glow I do all I can for you. But it never satisfied. The confines of your mind where snow sit Too pure and refined to know What's really -going on in my mind? How I think you are a little too unkind.