It is hard to describe my papa, mainly because I've never seen him in his own body. Though he shares a body my love for him is not rivaled. My papa, while part of my daddy, is another of my loves. I have never fought with my papa, but my papa has fought for me. I know he will protect me from all things, as I would with him.
He is my rose. He may have his thorns, but those thorns are worth the love I have gained from him. He has a rough exterior, not letting many closes enough to hurt him. I am proud to say that I am one of the few that he has let closes, along with our friends. Although he acts tough he is truly a kind soul. He is a loving soul, although a little bit of a worry wart, and continues to be there for me no matter how annoying and possessive I get
My Papa has Carmel brown hair the stands up then flops to the side, his red eyes sparkle with the kindness he tries to hide, he has freckles that splatter across his face, his face rest like he's mad but when he smiles his face lights up, I don't just love him for his looks though. I love him for his protective streak, for how he would fight his host for me. And the joy he brings to my life. I love him for every insecurity he has and everything he is
I write to him because when I speak my words jumble and stumble. I write what I have always wanted to say to him, what I want him to know, and what I wish for him to believe about himself. He is not hurtful, he is not evil, he is kind, and loving
My Papa, a name I call him when I am in little space, but he is not just that, he is my best friend, my love, and my everything
