Look at me* Tremors wrack my Tense, Paranoid form. There's nothing wrong with you. My mouth hangs slightly open, And I believe the man Who waits patiently within my head.
”What's your problem?” ”You resist my charms.” I laugh to myself, Smile over a glowing screen. There's no resisting that boys Eyes And smooth laugh Or even the badly placed lip ring, Like mine. ”I try.”