Good evening, miss.
All I ever do is wish things were different.
This envy is destroying me,
and it is obvious.
I´m looking to put a bullet into the tile floor. Mark this.
I want to say something:
We were blessed, but now I wet my lips and wait for them to dry.
The lust of the dress.
The thought of her lips´ reverent smile.
These letters I´ve wrote are shackled to my chest.
Her tantalization.
She is misconception.
Good evening, miss