I wonder where your eyes wander when I am not the focus, or where your heart travels out the door. Do you always think of me when you lay in bed, or do I think too much of your eyes?
Do you think of her in bed or me in the light of day?
Do you think at all, when your pen scribbles words to paper faster than the teacher speaks? Maybe a tin can suits you more than soft, pale skin. Robots don't have sick feelings, either.
When you kiss her, do you feel a connection? Does it really mean anything? It looks kind of gross, doesn't it? You seem too bored to think that way, though.
I've never kissed her, or him. My mouth is rotten, so my mother said. I shoved soap in my mouth every night, it's still pretty dirty. You're teeth are always littered with food, but I bet your mouth is clean.
I wonder if dentists think a lot about who they kiss, maybe they examine their interests just before a kiss. Just in case, you can never be too safe can you?
You like holding my hand, don't you? The smile on your face is almost chilling, the piece of bread stuck to the roof is a little jarring. My hands are always a little warmer than anyone else, is that why you like them? I bet it is.
Laying in bed with you is a weird thought. I imagine you in an elaborate dress with lots of ribbons to hang to the floor. My beds a bit too messy for something so gorgeous, don't you think?
I guess you did think so, because you're naked in my bed now. I'm a little heartbroken you'd think so, I would have paid anything for that dress and cleaned all night just for you. I don't know why I would, I wouldn't clean for mother.
I wonder if the girl you're lying with, now, would feel the same.