His face. Is like leather against my soft hands His arms Are like a warm blanket on a cold day His body Is like a teddy bear I cling onto His voice Is like a thousand mockingbirds singing a kind melody His blood Thick and beautiful on my cold thin hands He's cold yet comforting I can't help but feel he's trying to avoid me. Why can't he just tell me he loves me His cold fists hit my face I hate it but I love that he's the one hitting me why am I like this? Am I normal? Do I like him? No..no man should like another man it's shameful..yet when I'm near him my body heats up my heart pounds faster I don't want him I need him His name rolls off my tongue like a tune I cant be tone deaf because his tune I hear and sing along too I hear the remedy of him and can match it The small wispy hairs flake off his dead dry hair the black roots having blue hair flowing out as if it's a water fall a deep soft water fall, the low riding uneven pigtails tied, small hairs undone. He's beautiful everything about him... Being with him is like I'm in a candle box the soft burning smell to him the waxy smell.. the bleached hair within brown roots arise the holes covering the frequently worn purple sweater. I love him💙 I love him💛