You seem so lovely and gentle,
it's nice
that you don't find it strange
when I leave you ten voicemails
drunkenly rapping
about how fantastic life is.

Why,
do I find it so easy, with you,
to embarrass myself?
But I'm never ashamed,
I just laugh when you laugh.

That weird feeling,
that comfortable feeling,
that I haven't been feeling
in a long time now. It's cute.
It's warm and all yellow.

Love is blind. But this isn't love.
This is sugary, syrupy,
I could almost call you sweetheart.
Buy me an ice-cream, maybe,
I might let you see me eat.

You're a bit of a *** head. But that's okay.
I don't mind it really.
You're a little bit lazy -
you remind me of sweet hazy grass
on grass in the summer sun.