Puppy Love

Oh, Sparks you are such a little monster.

You trash eating, bird speeding, super spoiled puppy

Paw, paw, paw until I bleed

Dig a hole through my heart


I would let you.

My pain would like that bone you buried years ago,

barely present;

its heat would transcend my body and end up in your eyes.


You're wincing. Why are you wincing?


Oh, Sparks your love is laced with poison.

But, I still love you. 

When I hurt, you are my palliative. 

Let me rest in the bed of your comfort.


You're wincing. Why are you wincing?














This poem is about: 
My family


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