Compliments flood from his mouth like water-
his faucet of flattery is starting to sound insincere.
His lips are constantly searching for mine-
I'm starting to believe he has no interest in speaking.
His sweetness is becoming sickening-
with every gesture I want to turn and run but I do not.
I try to fight his advances, but always give in.
I'm too easily persuaded.
And I hate myself for that.
his faucet of flattery is starting to sound insincere.
His lips are constantly searching for mine-
I'm starting to believe he has no interest in speaking.
His sweetness is becoming sickening-
with every gesture I want to turn and run but I do not.
I try to fight his advances, but always give in.
I'm too easily persuaded.
And I hate myself for that.