Wooden Picnic Table in The Kitchen

According to you, I am incredible.
But I should think I’m beautiful.
I want you to sit on my lap like you used to.
I love symmetry; I want you to fall limp in my arms
and let me drag your lifeless body into my bedroom like you used to.
Why does it matter so much to me if it matters to you or not?
According to you, I can enslave you, if I wanted to.
I love contrast and being the black point; I want to pour wax on you again
and fight you again and watch you lay across the bed like you used to.
Why does it matter so much to me if it matters to you or not?
According to you, I can recognize talent. I should think I’m talented.
I like looking toward the light; I’m envious of youth;
I enjoy the aesthetics from the time I was born and according to you, we were all born to be extraordinary. I should acknowledge my own greatness to myself
whether or not anyone else ever does.
Why does it matter so much to me if it matters to you or not?
I wanna piss on you again like I used to and push your face down
while you listen to me talk shit to you through headphones like we used to.
According to you, I am full of shit. I think I deserve care.
I’m nostalgic and sentimental; I want you to wear my heels and bras
and panties like you used to.
According to you, I have feelings for you.
Why does it matter so much to me if it matters to you or not?
I like the concept of the destruction of an angel;
I want to peel things apart and see what is inside them
and according to you, I am perfect. I should think my values are good
and match my intentions and actions with them.
Why does it matter so much to me if it matters to you or not?
I’m jealous of something whole so I want to break it;
I punch above my weight in defiance at all times; I miss you like I used to.
According to you, I am a pussy. I should think I am worthy.
I feel like I deserve to be worshipped by someone others worship.
According to you, you are horny all of the time, and yeah, I wanna fuck you again like I used to.
According to you though I think I know everything and I actually don’t.
Well, I think that I should accept my death because it comes, it surely comes.
Why does it matter so much to me if it matters to you or not?


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Word Soup and Nuts
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