He says the way I cook my meat is like chewing bubble gum pink. Wants a bit of steak anyway wrapped in foil always on the go always Royale. What we played at was just playing, game making out of love make a name out of using 'em. Distracted me from leaving town set me on a new direction at times felt so bad, like vivisection. Probably shouldn't eat tri-tip so late got me in my feelings got me thinking about french toast cooking at 3am and a text, he'll be late again cover the bacon curl up, watch the aquarium fish swim not ready to see the things he shows me so .. neatly. Ain't that the way shit goes. Playing Rusalka on repeat spy a blackbird tap tap tapping on the skylight vomiting into toilets making a fool begging for a fuck crying and laughing just to cry again a feeling, nobody knows worse than all alone.
