“Sitting alone, staring blankly at the floor, my thoughts turn to her….”
What to say? [she is so beautiful, she’d never want me]
Who is she? [she says nothing to no one perpetually]
-Back of the room, her face in a book, her skirt riding high on her thigh
Number one student, top of the class, she exists to no one but me….
What to say? [she is so beautiful, she’d never want me]
Who is she? [she says nothing to no one perpetually]
What to say? [she is so beautiful, she’d never want me]
Who is she? [she says nothing to no one perpetually]
I sometimes notice the bruise on her face, or the swollen lip
And most often I gaze at the cross which hangs between her breasts….
‘So soft and gentle…so beautiful…”
I dream of her….Playing out scenes in my mind….
I dream of her….Kissing me gently, caressing….
I must kill her….She doesn’t want me, she’ll die…
I must kill her….She can have no one but me! (Here I come!!)
Venturing into the street….
I know where she lives….
I know where her bedroom is….
I know everything about her….
She’ll see- I’ll show her
She’ll see- I’ll show her
-Her light is off, but her bedroom door is open, I can see her…
Legs spread, I can hear her moans through the window….
“But there’s something wrong,” ….she gazes at a picture of Jesus….
Watching her in that room, I am in love with her….
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