What is to become of me?
My heart can no longer take this waiting anymore . . .
Your sweat has soaked into my skin. I cannot rid the scent of you off my yearning body.
I am just a photograph. And you are the burning fire.
Watch me burn.
My heart can no longer take this waiting anymore . . .
Your sweat has soaked into my skin. I cannot rid the scent of you off my yearning body.
I am just a photograph. And you are the burning fire.
Watch me burn.
ASAP... would their be a time? Damnit, I just got off work, I have no thought. But I'll come up with something tonight. I hope midnight will be ok. Haven't written in months but you left me no choice but deliver something. I hope I still have it in me. If this one sucks, I apologize, I'm under alot of stress.
Edited to say: Yes, Ma'am!
[Edited on Aug 26, 2004 8:07PM]