A Plea

slow is the quicksand poison blood from the wound of the pricked hand
oh,
still I dream of him
why is it like this
Words on paper
I listen to Taylor
I still crave our kiss
I make a wish
a plea
for a different prophecy
just want someone who enjoys my company
without first wanting to touch my body
the new read my pain
and still acted the same
why can’t you get to know the meaning of my name
be first
break the curse
bring back the gentleman
who just wants to hold a girls hand
be sad if she is without him in Japan