Jenny was the girl in school that no one talked to;
she was addicted to cough drops.
And her piggy little eyes lit up as her bony fingers
reached into the bag again.
She'd roll the cherry lights in her mouth,
lips stained red and sticky.
Her fingers felt the way that toddler's did;
that clammy, grasping goo.
A hypochondriac to the last.
No, no one liked Jenny LaMar
But I
who fell in love.
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 12:22 PM UTC
Jenny was the girl in school that no one talked to;
she was addicted to cough drops.
And her piggy little eyes lit up as her bony fingers
reached into the bag again.
She'd roll the cherry lights in her mouth,
lips stained red and sticky.
Her fingers felt the way that toddler's did;
that clammy, grasping goo.
A hypochondriac to the last.
No, no one liked Jenny LaMar
But I
who fell in love.
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