Oh, Sweetheart

Oh, Sweetheart.

Oh, love.

My poor, poor boy.

You're the first person that has fit with me and made me feel part of something.

Made me burn and love the destruction.

The first to call my name and make it mean something enormous.

I wanna love you madly.

This life makes me crazy and I can't get you out of my head.

Where are you?

I wanna live well and prosper and I need to grow,

but I can't.

But I don't think it's your fault.


Never seen deadpool, (I'm a baby)

I believe the thing about puzzle pieces and I'm pretty sure we wavy, curvy fit together.



This poem is about: 


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