part one of my poem rant

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I have a ruiness touch.
it sounds
made up
but I promise you,
everything I lay my hands on
rots away.
maybe touch isn't the word. perhaps ruiness emotions is better. everything I care about goes up in flames.
funny.
I love someone. I care for that person, but he doesn't care about me the same way I care for him.
what did I expect?
he had witnessed me at my worst moments.
and also at my happiest.
I have a urge to talk to him all the time, when I'm crying, laughing, or bored.
he answers
but he is not there.
we have been friends.
but I messed that up.
but oh, what don't I mess up?
he probably thinks I'm crazy.
obsessive.
psycho.
insane, maybe.
he may be right. sometimes I am.
actually a lot of the time.
rarely am I happy, let alone about him.
let alone near him.
let alone to him.
he ruins me, and I ruin everything.
oh why,
why,
does the boy ruin the girl with the ruiness touch?

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