She asked me if I smoked, I was nervous. She smiled. What could I have done? She got close to me. I wanted an embrace. She frowned at me, hiding a smirk. I beer-ed myself up.
Her physical and emotional nicotine gave me a high. I was drinking in class again.
She said, "I'll call you sometime." It was clear that what she wanted she couldn't put into words or tangible feelings yet. She left, I sat in front of the TV.
She said, "I'll call you sometime." It was clear that what she wanted she couldn't put into words or tangible feelings yet. She left, I sat in front of the TV.
Just like a violated torah, not being read, yet opened, she left me. Or was it my feelings? Unfortunately, nothing exists to cover us.
Maybe it's just me. Maybe?
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