On Plain Paper (short poem)

I’m writing on plain paper. I’m scared the words will fall.
But even if they don’t come back I’ll love them after all.
I created what was there, I’ll love them anyway
Even when they hate me and I won’t know what to say.

We may as well play scrabble with words across our floor
But then I’ll win and then you’re mad, and I’ll dislike you more.
I feel I need not worry - I’m restrained against attack.
But if I can’t possess them … would they still come back?

The cracks across the ceiling? I think it’s funny stuff.
Right now I see them smiling If only that’s enough.
I’m writing on plain paper and it makes me more unstable.
I can’t accept I won’t come back and love is just a label.