Tickle my insides
April 29, 2002 @ 8:40 p.m.
You're doing this on purpose, I know this. I know you're doing this on purpose, ignoring me for a reason, being sufficiently gone to make me insane.
I want to be the snowflake that lives on the end of YOUR lashes. Silly. As if I'd never kiss your lashes. You have only to bend down.
For you I'd bleed myself dry, you know. Cut the gashes and let the wound trickle down my sleeve. For you. Would you like that? Would you care?
You tickle my insides, you know.
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I don't like you, but I love you - October 03, 2006