Dear Michael Clifford,
It’d be really great if you’d stop being ridiculously perfect.
I hate your stupid hair, and how it looks great, no matter what color it is.
I hate your stupidly beautiful eyes, and your stubble.
I hate your stupid sweater paws, and your beanies, and your plaid shirts.
I hate your cut off sleeves, and your skinny jeans, your boots, and your
tattoos.
I hate how your voice makes me want to cry.
I wish you’d stop ruining my life.
Also, I love you.

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