Office by Alex Penny
The feeling’s like seeing a topless model doing the hand bra.
Ya, know, you just want to take her hands out of her chest. But you can’t. ‘Coz the picture’s just a picture and you can’t change that. Unless magic is real or you could back loop the time to when the picture was being taken and at that moment you had control of the model’s brain to let go of her sightly package that she was strategically covering with her appendages.
That’s what I feel about you.
I want to tell you everything. I wanna let it all go. But there’s this appendage that blocks my mouth from saying it. It’s called my ‘common sense’. I don’t want to tell you because losing you is so much harder than keeping all of my feelings bottled up inside. I value our friendship, our laughs, our fucked up jokes and the way how we laugh at things that’s only funny to us. I’d rather have that than have you as a lover or worse, a distant memory of what could have been.
And now I hate you for making me sound like an emofagwhoremothafackerdesperatewannabe.
…AND LOOK WHERE WE ARE NOW. :”>
