flinging petals in your direction
if all's fair in love and war why do i see people flocking to settle the score. enrich, endure, they want more more more. but where's the score to settle if your ribcage is made of metal and your heart is like a whistling kettle, screaming what for? revenge is a stinging nettle and while i'm flinging petals in your direction, flirtatious inflection. correction: you're trying to cross burnt bridges. i fidget and wait impatiently. your midget attention span's got me flustered. i mix mustard and ketchup. is that a problem for you? because i can leave right now if you want me to. i don't mean to run from you. i ease back from myself. i'm the only one who can bother me and i do it well. and if the past bothers you so much, why do you live in it? every minute you spend in it takes away from your present. and while i'm hesitant to vote for president for fear of embezzlement, my unsettlment begins with you, and your immature obsessions, false confessions, incestuous avoidance of questions.
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