Playing coy.
the way you stumbled across us, only slightly inebriated: that was different. i would have never guessed your mouth could hold so many words. you rejected my paper animals, my magic, in order to keep yours. all this time, you had guessed wrong. somehow, i was able to correct you with the inability to still my eyes; perhaps you realize how unnerving it is to look into yours. they were well-hidden yesterday. the way you smirked and gracefully repudiated meeting my anger only intensified my scrutiny. you should have never threatened to snatch God from my hands, tear Him up and throw Him in my face. [entertainment] on a wildly dreary day shall not be thrown around.
i think i may have figured out your game. despite the irrelevance of it all, for i'll never reach the marrow of this before it changes, i'll continue to ponder. we cannot help who we are. we cannot help the desire to, either. it is good to feel alive, even if only for a short while.
i think i may have figured out your game. despite the irrelevance of it all, for i'll never reach the marrow of this before it changes, i'll continue to ponder. we cannot help who we are. we cannot help the desire to, either. it is good to feel alive, even if only for a short while.