The best presents are those given with love.

Romance of bright red passion.

Poetry.

Poem.

I think I believe a little less in love, as if it were God itself, imaginary, fictional, and yes only pretend. Dead Love… not the lover but the idea, the concept I believe died so long ago, if it were ever really there to begin with at all.

Sweet candy is great to eat.

Precious moments done out of love is a divine thing.

I let you take control.

You can be so evil at times.

I wrote this poem three years back, for someone I loved with might, but no longer do.