::: Still Want to Stomp on Your Face :::

Marching you down to the zoo
And feeding you to the yak
Carving my name in your chest
And tying you up in a sack
Feeding you mistletoe jelly
Lighting your bed with fire
Tipping you out of a sixth story window
Wrapping your neck in barb wire

You ask me, “What could it mean”
And I say, “It must be love.”

Written by: ~ Sarah Leob

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