I have missed you,
I hate having other
things to do,
when all I desire
is to sit with you,
bleed onto you,
to have everything make sense
once upon you.
I love you,
I fear, if I leave,
I may return
and be unable to
please you,
unable to get out
a word of sense;
my dearest friend,
will you open up
your arms again?
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