The way you smoothly maneuver your tongue Past your teeth and getting a quick sample of your lip It drives me insane, in a way that I feel my chest thud I've got to focus on the lecture and get a grip
There's something about you being infuriated Something about you slamming your fists On the blackboard and teacher's table when you're mad It's a scalding hot feeling that persists
No love. No emotions. Just getting high off of what you're displaying during Math class.