but why do i like you.
why do i give a ****.
i shouldn't give two *****, and yet here i am.
to know that i'll be seeing you tomorrow drives me crazy,
but knowing that i'll never see you again in a year drives me insane.

you remind me of so much dumb ****.
it's sappy **** and i don't like it.
my poems are literally vents there's no art here.

and i'm sorry for being such a ******* disappointment.
i guess i'm glad we were a little close last year.
**** i **** *** but you **** more.