thinking of sliding off my slanty chair and making my way down the street to your window to listen for the sound of girly voices
but then I think I would think murderous thoughts and send in the mail your fingers to your mother and tell her that I love you so and ask on Sweety
your childhood pet
and then remind her that Sweety died in my bathtub and I think that would make her cry.
I think that would not be good...
so I think I'll stay where I am and try not to think of you.
©flailing
F