dedicated to some desperate housewife types that I know
An orchestration of the mind for sure
I look so beautiful at four in the morn
Subdued by ambien and light shining through the door
Awakening my fantasy
no need for K-Y
Lubricated enough for me, myself and I
A solution to all problems and my mind disengages from the daily grind and is left alone to find myself regarded a prophet that saved all the souls that went to heaven that day.
I’m so fabulous in my own mind. I’m almost like Jesus. Not quite though since my mind just can’t go that far into the game.
Bloody close though. Good job!
People listen to everything I say and praise me for my clever little snips.
I never make a mistake or do one bad thing. I’m so certain that I could never do anything wrong. Uncertainty would mean I’m not as fabulous as I think and maybe I’m more devil than divine.
That would really suck and just not suit my tastes.
I’d much rather be a saint – giving mittens to mitten trees, singing to babies, guiding sinners to redemption and kicking my three-year old for pooping his pants. Oh well maybe that doesn’t qualify but it wasn’t my fault, the kid drives me insane.
I’ll cast the first stones without reserve since I am plainly without sin. The mind just cannot comprehend my commitment toward any bad deeds regardless of the truth. I know without hesitation my nature, with respect to contradictions, I will remain aloof.