Disclaimer: I repeat, I do NOT own Bleach :O

Author's Note: I know I haven't been a good author and updated my stuff lately (especially when i promised to update Trouble Cleff), but that's because I've been working on the first chapter of "Time of Our Lives" and it's really long because it is based off of each minute and hour, so bare with me people! In the mean time, I made a quick little "letter/Poem" by Grimmjow for ya xD (I was bored and my bro and sis were on the computer and this just happened to come to me eh-heh) Enjoy!

Dear Ulquiorra,

You're so hard to read;

always sporting a stoic mask-

even when you bleed.

I don't know how you keep it from falling,

I know I wouldn't be able to-

especially when fucking.

How can you act so boring,

with such distinct markings upon your face,

that looks as if you're eternally crying?

I've always hated that look.

You pretend you don't think you're better than us,

but I can read you like an open book.

You call me trash;

that i am worthless-an utter failure.

Especially since I act so brash.

But you know what?

You're no better.

Even after the way you treat me,

my arm still reaches out for you,

though not so you can see.

I silently stalk you,

my precious prey,

and even fucking long for you, too!

Why must you turn your back on me?

Your flaring coattails and intoxicating smell

still linger in my mind like Aizen's tea

I suddenly have these weird cravings:

I want to smell you;

deeply inhale your toxic scent

like a delicious moonlight stew.

I want to taste you;

mare your perfect porcelain skin-

Can I kiss you?

I want to touch you;

run my hand down your gorgeous chest

and ultimately ravish every part of you.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Do you see the effect your presence

has brought upon me?

I don't even know myself anymore!

And yet you still treat me the same,

only concerned for your next chore.

You still think I'm garbage,

even though I think you're beautiful.

I know you carry a lot of baggage,

But don't you see it-I thought you were smart!

Maybe Nnoitra's actually right-

I'm the only Espada with a heart.

Da fuck?

What am I saying?

These feelings suck!

Is this what humans call 'love'?

Because it's definitely not hate.

Wow, there really is a thin line between hate n' love.

You infiltrate my dreams,

congrats for taking away my only sanctuary.

I wonder what this even means!

So here I am,

actually writing a fucking poem

and damn!

It feels so good,

to release all these pent up feelings,

it actually helps my bad mood.

I hope you never read this,

and if for some fucking reason you happen to-

burn this.

I never want to see this pathetic shit again.

But if I had to rate this

from one to ten-I'd give it a ten.

I mean my poetic ability shocks me-

don't you think it was good?

And maybe we are 'meant to be'.

I mean, humans are always saying how

'opposites attract'.

And we are polar opposites now.

I wish I could outright tell you all this,

but I'm kind of afraid of rejection.

And what the others would think of this.

Do think over your decision seriously-

I don't want no half-ass response.

You don't have to treat me kindly,

I mean I only expect your coldness.

I just have one question to ask;

Are you seriously 'heartless'?

Because I still think there's hope for you yet.

Though small, I sort of saw a glimmer

in you when we first met.

Considering you read up to this point,

means you're not a heartless bastard.

Unless it's some twist of a punishment.

Well I ain't got nothing more to say,

so I guess I'll just end it here.

And writing this doesn't make me gay!

Even though poems are definitely girly,

and I am confessing to a dude...

shit, this doesn't make me any less manly!

I guess I have to say the words now,

don't I?

But I can only write it because I don't know how.

I love you.

There, I said it.

(Well, technically I wrote it.)

And the energy it consumes is just a tiny bit!

I look forward to your reply,

in writing, not person for I don't think

my heart could handle a negative reply.

I tried really hard to censor my language

for you.

It doesn't get any worse than 'garbage'!

Con Amor,

The Sexta

(I can't believe I just referred to myself as that!)