You are the greatest architect I ever knew. And you don't even build houses. You can't design structures. You never even went to college. But you built something way more spectacular. With simply words, you built a cage around me. With every phrase out of your lips, a bar is made to imprison my body. Everytime you touch me, chains form around my wrists. But I forgive you and choose to love you, knowing you're not at your best. I'll watch you from inside this prison. Admiring you and your architecture skills. Because without a degree, you've made cages and bars.