End Rhymes for Erica

Erica, I’m worried,
I’ve fallen too hard.
I saw him get handsy
on that rooftop yard.

My chest hurts like cardio,
neck prickles with heat,
I lose control, I’m bewildered,
and at a loss to compete.

Our connection’s a secret
maybe prudent at first,
but now I’m possessive
and fallen-in with the cursed.

History tells all,
there’s something wrong you see
I was selfish for months,
unabashedly me.

I loved and resented,
and thought that all past,
But you’re something else,
Alea iacta est.

Am I wrong? Speak quickly,
I need your direction.
I’d rather be lonely,
Than wear this jealous complexion.

Three ante meridiem
I’m exhausted but awake,
Please forgive this trite poem,
If only for new love’s sake.

I’m better than this,
with time you will tell,
I’ll willfully escape
from this masculine hell.

What I want from you now
is to ignore my flaws,
to grant me a pardon,
blind to reason or cause.

While I want this to work,
It will cost more than free,
Erica, I’m tired,
of my envious ennui.