Phoebe and Jack

cant stop

gotta look

got to have...

I cant stop its driving me crazy

the beauty

the perfection

the mystery

I need to be near

its driving me crazy

every time he walks by I have to look,

and inhale deeply in futile hope, to feel his scent. To inhale his very essence.

he is cautious of me, because he thinks I will hurt him.

last time I got him, I did not hurt him, I just brought him close to me

so I can feel him,

smell him,

gently put my mouth on him

and yes I did lick him and slobber on him

but I didn't hurt him,

he says i would have if those people didn't stop me.

"stay away"

"leave him alone"

"just don't worry yourself about him"

that's what the people say.

but he is so,

so,

so in-describable,

when I look at him my soul stirs in a way that words can't describe

he is so much of everything I like,

I've got to have him.

He has to like me,

if I can just get him alone again I can tell him

and if he won't listen

at least I'll be close.

and if he won't listen

I will pin him down and inhale his beauty

and if he won't listen still

I will be the last thing he sees while i crush the life out of him

slowly,

lovingly,

feeling like I have never felt before.

cut the crust off please

little miss white bread

with her turkey and tasteless white-cheese on white bread

pouts to the man across the table

"the crust is too hard" she whines "please cut it for me"

he comes to the rescue with knife and slices

slices off the crust

slowly precisely as if he has planned this moment,

fantasized about slowly with surgical precision

cut,

cut

cutting

first one side

then the other

then flip her over

and cut more

and finally cut the last time.

and the woman asks "whats the matter, you look so sad all of a sudden"

he replies "sad, no, just deep in thought,.. dear"

and as she begins to eat her now crust-less sandwich he savors the crust

the part of the sandwich that she will never know about and with it his fantasy continues.