Love is dream in the outreaching mist.

I reach for it, but it will always float out of reach.

Will I never have a lover to love?

Am I destined to suffer this all my life?

Farewell love, I'll never reach you before my prime.

That was in symbol.

Greek letters are hard. But it

Is cryptically

Meant to be. It ex-

Presses my feelings for Butch.

I love you, Butchie.

I hate you, Ffion.

You took him away from me.

I hate you to h*ll.

***

Impossible for me to write that now. This is a collection of narrative poems, not a collection of Blossom and Bubbles bashing. I'm not going to just jump into it. It's not like 'Guess the People', Bubbleshater.