(no subject)
anytime is tea time
I didn't want to hurt you... but sometimes I just can't help myself. I'm just empty without you. There's something I want that -- just something about you. Words don't quite express the feeling.
The way you make me feel, it's beyond description. How does one describe your smell? The way you taste? Perhaps if I was a greater poet... perhaps if I was a better lover.
I love so many things about you. You're cute. You're small. You're quick. And cheap. Always single. I can have you anytime. But you're also down to earth. Some people might call you easy, but I like thinking of you as accessible. You're old fashioned American. It's a good thing. You're not pretentious.
I know I go too far, sometimes, and I'm sorry. I know I can get a little crazy. I know I hurt you last week. Actually, deep down inside, you hurt me too. My doctor told me to take it easy... but he doesn't understand how I feel.
But dinner today was good, right? I opened my door for you, took you out of the cold. I laid you out gently between two slices of grilled toast, warmed you up - 45 seconds is the best - and sunk my teeth in your warm, gooey insides. You were delicious. Again, I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt you... but sometimes I just can't help myself.
I didn't want to hurt you... but sometimes I just can't help myself. I'm just empty without you. There's something I want that -- just something about you. Words don't quite express the feeling.
The way you make me feel, it's beyond description. How does one describe your smell? The way you taste? Perhaps if I was a greater poet... perhaps if I was a better lover.
I love so many things about you. You're cute. You're small. You're quick. And cheap. Always single. I can have you anytime. But you're also down to earth. Some people might call you easy, but I like thinking of you as accessible. You're old fashioned American. It's a good thing. You're not pretentious.
I know I go too far, sometimes, and I'm sorry. I know I can get a little crazy. I know I hurt you last week. Actually, deep down inside, you hurt me too. My doctor told me to take it easy... but he doesn't understand how I feel.
But dinner today was good, right? I opened my door for you, took you out of the cold. I laid you out gently between two slices of grilled toast, warmed you up - 45 seconds is the best - and sunk my teeth in your warm, gooey insides. You were delicious. Again, I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt you... but sometimes I just can't help myself.
