C

There he goes, another text. The feeling of love, the feeling of life, I never knew what it was before you. He's like a shot of expresso, the soft and sweet kind. the kind that soothes your throat and gives you energy. I'm more like Vodka. harsh on the Throat, only good with mixers. the kind you drink to get drunk. i don't know why he likes me, but i love that he does. hell, i love everything about him. the way his lips spell my name, the way his eyes look when he smiles, the way he cares for me, the way he's so much he and so not like me. the gods know I was miserable, he's my gift. I'm greedy for him, he's like my last meal, like a pricey bird you keep In a cage. I just hope I don't taint his pretty feathers, so white and pure. I'm like pure black tar. I'm going to ruin him, I know. I dread the moment it's going to happen, but it will. For I am nothing more than a shot of vodka and vodka ruins every good shot of expresso. For now, I'll just wait patiently. soak up his happiness, drain Him till he's gone. till I observed him. how this Poem makes sense? it doesn't. but everyone has dreams, just like I wish Expresso and Vodka would mix well. and I don't mean the drinks.