because i'm feeling cryptic
she hated it.
and my frosted flakes have turned all crumbly because its near the end but
not right at the sugary part.
hey guess what, everybody loves...
math class!
or atleast talking singing through math class.
i also love
the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair
i love the way you drive my care, i love it
when you stare. i love your
big dumb combat boots, and the way you read my mind.
i love you so much it makes me sick;
it even makes me rhyme. i love the way
you're always right, i love it
when you lie. i love it when you make me laugh;
even worse when you make me cry.
i love it that you're not around, and the fact
that you didn't call.
but mostly i love the way i don't hate you; not even close, not even a little bit...
not even at all.
hey...what in hell's manger is wrong with you!?
i have enough to think about with exams coming
(not really though)
and your movie is boring. i'm sorry you're
so ugly. maybe...
my friend and your friend will hit it off. and maybe..
we will..
go-to-osbornevillage-and-take-delightfullyartistic-black&white-photographs-and-write-things-about-how-i'm-miss-you-butpretending-not-to-miss-you-in-notebooks-inlittlecoffeeshops.
and our cheeks will be rosy and we'll look wonderfully wintery in
scarves and parkas.
and i'll look wonderfully different tomorrow with
my unability to decide between punk and emo and pink ribbons in my hair and green around my eyes.
♥
and my frosted flakes have turned all crumbly because its near the end but
not right at the sugary part.
hey guess what, everybody loves...
math class!
or atleast talking singing through math class.
i also love
the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair
i love the way you drive my care, i love it
when you stare. i love your
big dumb combat boots, and the way you read my mind.
i love you so much it makes me sick;
it even makes me rhyme. i love the way
you're always right, i love it
when you lie. i love it when you make me laugh;
even worse when you make me cry.
i love it that you're not around, and the fact
that you didn't call.
but mostly i love the way i don't hate you; not even close, not even a little bit...
not even at all.
hey...what in hell's manger is wrong with you!?
i have enough to think about with exams coming
(not really though)
and your movie is boring. i'm sorry you're
so ugly. maybe...
my friend and your friend will hit it off. and maybe..
we will..
go-to-osbornevillage-and-take-delightfullyartistic-black&white-photographs-and-write-things-about-how-i'm-miss-you-butpretending-not-to-miss-you-in-notebooks-inlittlecoffeeshops.
and our cheeks will be rosy and we'll look wonderfully wintery in
scarves and parkas.
and i'll look wonderfully different tomorrow with
my unability to decide between punk and emo and pink ribbons in my hair and green around my eyes.
♥