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Theater 18

( To Da Baddest Bitch in Da Club. Dat Bae Monia.)

Spray your perfume
Until my eyes bleed,
All you bring is pain
And you’re still what I need.
 
You can dump the bucket
On top of my head,
And I will wear it proudly
Until I am dead.
 
The music we like
Makes us disagree,
But regardless of taste
You’re the flavor for me.
 
What you are doing
You probably can’t see.
You’re making me the man
That I want to be.
 
Unlike the  worms you eat
I’ll never be sour,
Unless you leave  me now
I’ll be left without power.
 
I’ll take a nerds rope
And tie it real tight,
And maybe it would hang me
If I didn’t take a bite.
 
Regardless of the future
I will always remember,
The Hunger Games we went through
In that cold November.

(2013)

A sweet and sour poem for the greatest girl I know.

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