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Pull it in my guft.
Pull it out my guft.
My guft needs some extraction.
Interaction.
Squash a butternuft and do it rough.
In my guft.

Floppy worms taking doopy turns.
Now it's stuck.
In my guft.
Pull it out.
The Dedpoet May 2018
Hello,
To your smile that killed
My suicidal daily,
When your zest filled my
Inner clarity
And gave form to destiny,
Not anyone road,
But your soul that touches many,
The guft that is you,
I bit of the nectar that your
Light feeds,
I am grateful
Even for the pain of missing
You now,
Friend of my deepest wound,
Cut me and I bleed your crimson
Catastrophe,
Because even your worst
Was the very best I
Felt,
The narcissistic venture,
I stayed because you allowed it.

— The End —