So she'll take another drag
on a cigarette you'd think
she'd been smoking for hours.
From my point of view,
she looks pretty pissed
about something or another.
(My, aren't I the observant one?)
I've been standing here
for, oh, about twenty minutes
and I've already learned
her pattern well.
She huffs and puffs
then flicks away remnants and ashes
with a stubbornnes so blatant
I want to slap her;
over and over
until it burns her skin and...
Haha. My conscience is
starting to bitch at me.
Fuck it.
Oh, excuse me.
Were you saying something?

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