It’s creative and it’s expressive, watch out!

Ladies, gentlemen, boys, girls,

Y’all bout to get schooled on me a bit more. I’m paying too much attention to the danger involved with seeking a miss that won’t quit on me. No games played means no fun. I’ll push ya away way too hard, entirely too far away from me. Please let the extra words I vomitted on my last love letter cataloged in my book across the web. It’s my blog, It’s long. Go. It drives girls crazy with me just being me.
I wish daily, I used to cry wishing she would just text me. Is it surprising I get choked up on the phone? Really? I know you can’t see me or read my lips. All I’ve ever wanted was to hear you tell me you loved me too. I’m afraid to kiss a mirror leaving treads everywhere I, scroll over me. I don’t even need this job. I’m trying to clear the way, converse through my writing. You still should tell me you love me so I know I’m safe to flex on the car wrecks.
Convey a way through the muck. Help me get unstuck.
I WALK AROUND MY HOUSE with no shirt on while eating oats. Donuts float in my pool. I’ll coat all my output with exactly one dose of love. Show them all, the whole freaking world what they’re missing. Kissing my mirror leaving lipstick spots would be hot. Write your name below it, Mary. It’s scary to me not being able to, or even encouraged to reach out directly.

Boost my ego, amigo. Trick me into asking you something you want to confess to. I’m typing with no shirt on at the moment. I took a pic, I’ll save that for us for later. Contact me privately while I write books of adoration. Living on a space station due to mentioning feelings were realer than real life. Fly a kite to reach me. Write me a letter in a bottle. Melt wax. Look at qual cracks, macking seems like sacking the qb. Surprise attack my driveway with your dodge neon. Sneeze on my insecurities. Travel the block again then find me and say you win.

Tell me you also want to have my last name. Let’s aim for space and win the race of blood curdling. Let’s communicate, coordinate a mass exodus. Let’s meet and feel free to cherish each other out loud. Now, I’m back to you. Do you dig it?

I dream of, I dream of you having my kids. Walking that tightrope with no reassurance scared me. I’m flying a bit closer to the ground now. I hope you tell me how to successfully approach ya safely, miss. I hope we can throw those insults I used to protect myself into the meat grinder and realize they gave us far too much to chew on.

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