Guerilla

Mike tasted like iron fierro like the blood from toe to cerebro the blood on his lip from the blows from his step dad showed Mike was a fighter I left tasting like iron not because he kept kissing me besando my bruises like he wasn't the one to do it my lips were fierro flavored his tasted like war his mouth a country run by dictator yo recuerdo el sabor I became una guerilla left him for a better life ran for mil millas sin mirrar para tras "But I love you" Hasn't worked since Because love doesn't hit Or becomes selfish Honey, you deserve the kind of love my mother gives. She will bring you your favorties on your bad days Because she loves you I will take a train for four hours to see my best friend's face Because I love him he is best friend before boyfriend "How was your day?" is how we say I love you Because I love you: The reader of this poem I give you the worst and best of me And if you love me back You can accept all of that Because I love you I won't expect you to love me back There is nothing in exhcange but acceptance, joy and sharing moments in the city of your choice I, much like you will know what love is You and I both know Mike will not be it You deserve the kind of love my mother gives Love somtimes never finds us at the right time, but it has always belonged to us.