My name is Bronson. Please call me B. Allen. Bronson is my slave name.
It brings upon me only grief, remorse, shame.
I am not much of a talker,
I am a much better writer.
I am very much that of a lover,
Nothing resembling a fighter.
I think I am ugly, but hopefully you find me hot.
Maybe you think you know me, but you probably do not.
I can be brutally honest. I am not afraid of a little burn.
I am very trusting. I tell you things even when they are none of your concern.
And for happiness I often yearn.
You may think none of this matters,
But it matters to me.
I mean nothing to you and that is nothing new to me.
I am a hopeful romantic, unless you break my heart, then I am hopeless.
Life is love. Love is hate. A circle imperfect and vicious.
