Today marks a very special*  day,
Id ask for a moment of time to  say...

You mean the utmost to  me
I hope after 365 days you've begun to  see
You're the greatest thing in my life that there could  be
Babyboo I love you less than  three!

No one has ever meant as much to me as  you
I am grateful for every little thing you  do
If what they say indeed is  true
Then sweetheart, you and me are stuck like  glue!

I know somedays we feeling like giving  in
When all else fails and our patience is wearing  thin
Just remember that loving you will never be a  sin
After all I was never a man made of  Tin!

This very day is marks the  end
But here's to another year just around the  bend
with gracious words and deepest affection do I  send
To you, the one and only, greatest  girlfriend

You are to me what are moon and  sun
Endless thoughts of you are often why thy head  run
Let us now rejoice and laugh in  fun
Till the day we're wed hub and  ***!

From there comes prosperity and eternal  life
With none other than you as my  wife
Although the road may be full of  strife
We cut through with the sharpest  knife!

So tell me now my  dear
I know our future together grows ever  near
Another lonely night is one we cannot  bear
But I will be here for you always so have no  fear.

I love you,
I love you, you know it,
I love you
*I love you, your baka the poet ♥

I think you might have serious psychological issues.
A combination of PTSD and BDD,
resulting in an extreme form of misandry,
which you compensate for by completely disrespecting your own body.
With masochism as a defense mechanism,
and danger as stress relief;
your personal well-being is so far down on your list that it turns my stomach just thinking about it.
You're some kind of crazy and it makes me feel kind of sick.
How's that for a diagnosis?

As I read your poetry
I wonder if it's true
Do the demons that help in rhyme
Really have a hold of you

And is the one you say you love
Not returning you the favor
In the poems that you pen
Is this all your life's behavior

Does your father really raise his fist
While your mother screams
As alcohol flows freely in your life
Or is it just poetry

Are you on the verge of suicide
And do you truly cut yourself
Do you feel that worthless in your life
Is what you write a cry for help

As I read your poetry
It often sets me off to wonder
Do you write about yourself
Or do you write about another