I care little for her what she deems imperfect. Whether that be sickness on the body or the mind. In my head, she is the most perfect. No one compares to what she has. Nothing is more perfect than her.
She is imperfectly perfect to me.
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Her
PoetryIt's her. It can only be her. My desperation has struck new limits for this girl. There are a lot of odds against us. The undeniable attraction. The pain of not being able to touch one another. The scare of our future. And the uncertainty of whether...
