I love the way you drink your coffee
I love the way you tie your shoes
I love the way you still ignore me
When I’m trying to kiss you.
I love the way that you laugh at me
I love the way you don’t deny
I love the way that you say “Trust me”
I even love the way you lie.
I love the way you trash my things
I love the way that you say “Just friends”
I love the way you hate it when I sing
I love your face when you see him.
I love the way you make excuses
I love every pen tattoo
I love all of your abuses
I love the way that I can’t hate you,
No matter how I try.
If there is a special Hell for writers, it would be the forced contemplation of their own works.
-John Dos Passos
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