panic
it's what's for dinner
how often do you meet someone you could talk to forever?why do i have such amazingly fucked-up timing?
what is that man doing, mommy?
why do i want to go home right now and read or watch movies so i don't have to think about how i feel?
why is the sky blue, mommy?
why did i not listen when my best friend told me not to look at guys like that when they talk to me?
where do babies come from, mommy?
why do i have to be a good little girl when i could so easily let go and be so bad?
why are we what we eat, mommy?
why do my fingers itch to type up things i can't allow?
but, really, why did the fucking chicken cross the damn road?
stick that in your pipe and debate it.
why would i love to thing about how i feel?
why won't i?
curious little bitch ain't she?