I saw a dead pigeon on the side of the road. She dresses to impress him, Hoping that her clothes
Temptation strikes me, but then I look at you.
You have no filter, your words are bacteria-infected. You do not have time to feel their acidity because you launch them out onto others the minute the thought enters your mind. It’s so easy to allow the words to flow out effortlessly, and then to simply recant your statement with, “You know how I am.”
Yes, I do.
Which is why I refuse to be you.