modus operandi inclusive of the lie that i’m holding so dear, and the one that i wish was true, the one i truly want and always have, the one that is hinted at and pops up so often on the dance floor, the one that holds me makes me move to his beat, the one that makes me forget that there is music playing, the one that i want to recreate once we get home. i know those shiny disco balls want to come out to play with that red hair and this is going so far west of dangerous it’s absurd. but it’s absurd that i do best, and i know i’d do my best if only he’d let them out to play. i really need something to play with and if he doesn’t watch out, i’ll be playing with something else soon enough. it’s only a matter of time, i’m sure, but i don’t know how long i can wait. i’m an addict and i know it, but there’s only so much i can hold out for. he needs his ass smacked for this, and he knows it, but he loves playing with fire, and he knows i’m all fire under that facade of decorum. i have a wish list too but you can’t buy everything from ebay.
non bis in idem
