My love,
My little dove.
I've seen you from above:
So beautifu,
Pitiful,
Resentful...
I truly was
So scared of ridicule.
So...
I've send you flowers.
And then I waited.
For hours..
And hours..
For weeks
And months.
To what avail?
You never called.
You haven't knocked.
You just ignored, ignored, ignored!
Don't you want to be with me???!!!
I do not wish
To be this angry.
But then, I have this itch.
This darkness from within...
I just can't win.
It claws at my intestines.
Makes me bleed,
Until I weep.
Therefore..
You better run,
Until I count
One
Two
Three