In your face.

You are a cunning drug, you know that? You are. I decide to take you, yes, oh I'd always. But I never get to take you, no. I don't. Instead you feed me best of stimulations for ever mindgasms, oh, oh, oh. But no, not all. Because always with much wonder. Brutal confusion. Assault. ...from time to time. It gets never boring. Oh no, it does not! And even with the recipe; I don't think I'd be able to recreate it on my own; for my own (sake). And in my dreams I feed you, too. So no, you cannot turn me all for myself Just because you're all I (really) have and I am yours. No, not in this way You can't. It always goes and comes round and round, now, doesn't it? Love, Confusion, Apology, Chaos. Oh the old play. Heads bumping. Now, haven't you figured out yet? Have you not decided on any way? Because you could so easily. Oh. Decide so much. Smile for me. Are we one, the same?