You Fuel My Insecurity - Acrostic

You wanted a bunk bed.
One stacked bed,
Up above another.

For my queen was fine,
Until you soiled its sheets.
Expertly you herded me,
Left and right into the bed shop

My master card,
Your delivery instructions.

I stood sadly and watched.
New sleeping arrangements,
Same room but a different bed.
Even though its still for two,
Complete separation now.
Up there you play,
Rolling with them.
I lay awake down here.
Tormented by the thought,
Your past men are in my bed.

poem by Stewart Green
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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