they say that love never dies could never curl and bawl and cry love is the purest of all emotions even turbulent and torrid it is pure, never horrid
but I'm tired of loving you or seeing your jaw, you finger, your tooth and feeling a rush of fear that i will never escape from this anxious pit of unclear good intentions and impure thoughts so i do what i am taught
i slog through the love, the lust the misplaced affections because i need, i must be graced with one smile, a small glimpse even if my feelings you already dismissed
i was going to tell you, don't you know? i was going to knock my feelings off their petty throne i thought that maybe if i let it all out i would not feel a gout of excitement for the forbidden feelings
that maybe i could stop pealing in laughter at the smallest thing when i thought you weren't looking, as i watched you sing that i would have the control of my buzzing desire but now i refuse to fan the fire
my friends still egg me on. Valentines Day is on Saturday, what could go wrong? I've found that people are great at giving advice when it wont affect them even once or twice
but they know that you know off my misplaced affection you see it now in every inflection she lied and told you behind my back and then asked me to cut her some slack when now that tenuous friendship we once had was broken
and i only ask you to give me a token of admitting your silence rings out louder than any no
... lesson well learned. and i will have to see him again, and again, and again, four hours a day, every day