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: 
Me
My family

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