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foul feelings plague my mind today
like a storm in a teapot
visible to some
but only to those few who dare to look into my eyes
through the frosted window
iced over by my arctic heart

C</3
I plan to one day write a poem filled with joy. I do experience that joy, but  lately nowhere near the magnitude to put it into the words it deserves
Your words embody me and melt in such a way I lose all train of thought.

I breathe you in deeply as though you will only last a moment.

Take me, melt me, mold me to the very curve of you.
I don't have the time to criticize you,
I'm too busy improving myself.

— The End —