philophobia

love not luff

it's a bit funny how you hate it when i say it wrong - 

it's like you with your rawring -

yet i can't mimic you because then i'm saying it w r o n g . 

you avoid it sometimes but i can see it in your eyes- words don't mean anything to you 

it only matters that i know and it matters to me- 

that's why you're so picky about it i can't- 

do you see what you do to me? 

the poetry cannot form itself any longer , 

scattered in between anything but a simple thought that i can never seem to keep contained

love 

ah god i do

i love 

i can't not and i can't deal sometimes and then i try to put it into my passion and i realize that it's 

y o u 

you're my 

love 

passion

and there's nothing i can do about it anymore.