bullets will be useless
I dislike
the thickness of your socks
the color of stripes in your
shirts and
the one devilish yellow
gleam in your left
eye
I'll pretend the trees in this town will be kind and you'll pretend
I didn't call to want you back
even demons have lush lashes
I hate it when
I find a piece of your curly hair
in the pages of my books, what do you do
rub your ass in them when
I'm not looking
jesus christ
