every time i want to bash your face in or crash my body hips into yours, i remind myself that you are someone's child.

you are someone's sugar, baby, poopoo, sweetie, snookums, sweet heart. on holidays and family get togethers there is a room full of people who love you wholeheartedly, endlessly.

somewhere someone thinks the world of you. i remember all of this and i grit my teeth, relax a little, and shake off those shameful aforementioned feelings because at some point in time, i thought the world of you, too.