I love you

But I love easily

It’s not a standard type of love

It’s the cheese!

The cheese!

But I think love sort of melts your brain, in the end

I’m not used to feeling that soft squishy

I’m usually in despair

It’s not about me

It’s about him

Like poet, like poet

Like punk, like punk

Like artist, like artist

Well, all can I say but that hours separate us

And lifestyle

And society

And circumstance

What I wouldn’t do to visit you, though

And at least get to know your friends

I don’t even know what you look like!

But I have seen your heart

And I hope… it’s still around when I am capable of traveling once more

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