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Jerk MAG
I love your voice,
your soft brown hair.
I love your eyes
and love your stare.
I love your laugh,
your cocky smirk,
your stupid jokes.
You precious jerk,
you know I do.
I want my hands
all through your hair
each treasured strand.
I’m wrapped around
your finger still.
Am I yet yours?
Your love does kill
the things I hold
so close to me
and yet you’re the
best jerk I see.

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'You can approach the act of writing with nervousness, excitement, hopefulness, or even despair - the sense that you can never completely put on the page what's in your mind and heart. You can come to the act with your fists clenched and your eyes narrowed, ready to kick ass and take down names. You can come to it because you want a girl to marry you or because you want to change the world. Come to it any way but lightly. Let me say it again: you must not come lightly to the blank page.'<br /> <br /> Stephen King