O’ Pie-maker, My Neck Hurts!

The crick in my neck
Is not due to stress
It was due to lying down
That night in the bed

We hardly got rest
You said
“You better spoon the shit out of me”
And I did it
Hoping I didn’t do too badly.

The crick in my neck
Makes my head angle weirdly
But I’d rather this duress
Then spend the night
Barely able to sleep
Since no one is next to me.

Let our legs become entangled vines
Let’s pretend there are no concerns of time
No confined compromise
Let me plant my arms by your side
An complimentary attachment
To your body
Your mind

This crick in my neck
It’s simply divine.
Distorted by design
Discomfort that’s fine

This crick in my neck,
It’s simply divine.
Wishing next time we won’t blame the wine
If to you I will bind
Or turn a blind eye
Say a stale good bye.

This crick in my neck
Reminds me of pie-
Reminds me why
I don’t have neck pain often.