sugar.
I ask all of my lovers if theyre happy with me. They always lie. “Im so happy with you.” how can you be happy if all i do is poke and **** at why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why?

I wouldn’t be happy with me. I’m not happy with me.

If i could, i’d be sweeter. I’d be gentle. I’d be a soft breeze on a lazy summer day. I’d be docile. I’d ask less questions, i’d be trusting, i’d be nice. I’d wear nice church sunday dresses, braid my hair, cross my legs more. Isn’t that what you want? Isnt that what i want?

spice.
I am a tempest. I grab you in and destroy you with my “why.”