My skin is sandpaper
Under your fingers
And when you make love with him
I lay here assessing thoughts of you
Rubbing my hands
Dreaming that I blow in your neck
Some really nasty thoughts
And I’m leaving
O.K.?
But you
Who do you dream of?
When you break a glass
And scream that you hate me
When you swear that it’s over
And then I still put the key
Under the rug
Since jumping out of the
Living room window
Is no more of my age?
- I’M leaving O.K.?
guimond - nov.6-07
