sonnet 116+1
Let me not to you’re so
fucking selfish
Admit impediments. Grow up not shut up
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is emotionally tormenting shit
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is inconsistent and unfair to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken
Hazel you don’t fucking understand not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come:
Do you think we are going to break up? alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Admit impediments. Grow up not shut up
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is emotionally tormenting shit
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is inconsistent and unfair to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken
Hazel you don’t fucking understand not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come:
Do you think we are going to break up? alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
