:I am the taste of stale lemon cookies from grandmas pantry

I am room temperature coffee staining your tongue and stomach lining

A small tickle in the back of your throat causing gigantic miniscule sweet baby coughs

Not enough

A shower that just can't seem to get warm

I am entirely too underwhelming
Me.
Indelicate angelic **** up
Beige walls to match my mild touch.
I do not burn
You're feelings never hurt
Id say I'm sorry but my voice is a humming of drums on fingertips
Sticks beat the vibration of voice off it
My slushed thoughts slashed into I have nots caused you lots and lots of boredom so you stopped listening to me accept i don't think you were ever listening for me cause you just wanted to hear a story about a **** girl whose hips made circular movements not innocent but there were pink cotton ******* and i hade baby lips