Take Classes for It, Not Pills
Category: Poems
Current mood:  apathetic

my black corduroy jacket 
your backseat promise 
You say “it's not that serious”
I’m on the edge of “I love you”

we smell like cigarettes  
but we don't smoke 
its second hand 
like my clothes 
like your heart 

You're puppeteering my thoughts
I thought this was “no strings attached”?
"if i lie my way out of this,
what are my chances - (of still needing you)?”

If i could cover all my corners
Keep my defenses up
I have my suspensions 
Id still claw back to you

You'd say its "pathetic"
but im hanging to the hope
you'll come around to the
idea of loving me

tell me that im stupid
so i can know for sure
place your lips on mine
i need nothing more

tell me that im stupid 
so i know for sure 
tell me that im stupid 
so i can know for sure 

place your hand in mine
i need nothing more

tell me im stupid 
for the bottles on the floor!