I have decided that I no longer care what to call you, dear words.
You may be a poem
Or a journal
Or a subliminal plot
To tame my psyche.
It doesn't matter.
I should you to one long ago
She did not care to look.
Today is her birthday.
She means the most to me.
If that one doesn't care to look,
[which is fine,
i didn't really expect it]
Then I am sure
In my assumption
That no one else would care.
This will not make an *** out of anyone.
And as no one will care,
No one will see.
It's reverse logic.
Therefore I will call you as I wish
On any given day.
Poem
Prose
Vendetta.
You are all in one
And you are all for me.