My left sock turned into a gag, a pillowcase on my head and I'm locked in the closet... who could have been capable of doing this to an almost white American? Is it Abdullah the terrorist?
No, just my sister trying to keep me away from the turntable, I really can't blame her, now that my earwax has matured I wouldn't stand listening to Kiss's Dressed to Kill over and over again.
This is what she played... and I think Tapestry is an incredible album.
I'm desperate
I wake up shivering
clinching my jaws
with fists ever so tight
ripping those 400 count sheets
and I breathe
I hyperventilate
as I bury my head in the pillows
slowly turning into one big disgusting pig
in fetal position
crying myself to sleep
thinking of using my pen as a chisel
and engrave a heart on your door
or a can opener and switchblade
to pry you out of my heart
like a tumor
like a foreign terrorist
like a drug
like a kite on the sky
