This is a vent poem/acceptance poem, I made it in like a couple minutes and I just wanna talk about it. I’m not saying the way a man loves is wrong I just love like my father does. In which my love can get comfortable, in which the ways that the way I love can be as hot as a fire and then as hot as a light bulb. No ones using a light bulb to warm up.

I also made two longer parts of this poem usually I’d break it up but I wanted some line variety. Also the commas I feel broke it up enough. I never usually talk about how my writing process is like, and it is different between the types. While doing poetry I read them out loud when I make them. Therefore the commas are usually when I take a pause in writing/speaking.