you told me i was like the splinter buried in your young fingertip, the piece of gum underneath your ballet shoes, a piece of lint inside your skirt pocket when all you were trying to find was your grandma's sweet suckle.
just an arrangement of dead flowers that no one wanted, the drain on the sidewalk which everyone avoided and the first hail fall that annoyed everyone.
my heart was stuck together by the cello tape you threw at my head on the school bus last week, and now it's limping because all it wanted to do was run to you and give you my passion which i have so proudly collected.
but all you did was drain it into the toilet bowl where i puked my guts out yesterday morning, and now the cello tape is becoming unsticky and now my heart is becoming weak because you've ruined it's stamina, it's life, because all i amount to is that rotten peach in the market stall that everyone looks on with disgust.
