I feel like I'm boring you with my stories.
I feel like I'm boring you with my attempts at making you laugh.
I feel like I'm boring you with what's going on inside my mind.
Instead...
You want to know my bra size.
You want to know my favorite ****** position.
You want to know how far I'd let you go.
And I tell you. I tell you everything.
It's funny how obvious your intentions are, yet, I still have this slither of hope that you will realize my brain is more interesting than my ******
But, until then, the color of my underwear is black with polka dots.
What about yours?
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 10:43 PM UTC
I feel like I'm boring you with my stories.
I feel like I'm boring you with my attempts at making you laugh.
I feel like I'm boring you with what's going on inside my mind.
Instead...
You want to know my bra size.
You want to know my favorite ****** position.
You want to know how far I'd let you go.
And I tell you. I tell you everything.
It's funny how obvious your intentions are, yet, I still have this slither of hope that you will realize my brain is more interesting than my ******
But, until then, the color of my underwear is black with polka dots.
What about yours?
No matter how hard I try, I'm always going to make myself desirable to you. Even if I know I'm better than that.
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