the thought of her running her hands through your hair makes me nauseous.
she doesn't know that you hate it when people touch your face
because of your scars.
she's going to try to sleep with you. but she doesn't know that you won't unless you're sure that you love her.
eventually she'll find out that your lips are soft like the belly of a peach.
and when she does she'll kiss you over and over again.
she's slowly going to get drunk off of the way you walk
and it'll make her so dizzy you have to carry her to your car.
you'll buy her flowers and she'll thank you and say she loves them.
but as soon as she gets home she'll put them in a vase and forget to water them until it's too late.
but i guess if she makes you happy, i'm happy.
(not really because i still love you)