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You used to be somewhat anathema to me
you were a stench you were a stool
you were a succubus
but further down the line
I think youâll find
I can change my mind
thatâs not a crime
and even though I donât know why, itâs not a crime
there seems to be some sort of loop
surrounding me or my activites repeat at an alarming frequency
and in decline
is anything thatâs mine
sitting in a shopping trolley
crying over somebody youâve seen once in the biscuits aisle
and instantly adored is not becoming or convincing
and I know that yourâe fucked up
and itâs a thing you canât get over
and itâs worthy of our tolerance
but everybodyâs hungry
and youâve eaten all our biscuits
and I I love your bout of gluttony
and even if itâs August it
gets chilly in the night
and weâre supposed to meet the others in the park
in 20 minutes and I donât want to explain
that youâve been crying
over someone else
and thatâs why all your eyeliner is leaving bits of residue
all over your nice face
and how you wonât even remember in the morning
when itâs over and in a half an hour
when your friends are all around you
and yourâe drinking and youâre happy
and the only piece of evidence that you were ever miserable
is the mascara that is covering your cheeks
and maybe me
sat in the corner
when I try to catch your eye
between deluded dreams of getting up and leaving you forever