You told me I made you feel the way

I feel when I draw circles under my tongue,      

                              but I'm not very good with new concepts.
Driving the nails into the coffin of my inhibitions,

I kiss your neck,
                             And fade into the knot In my Stomach.

There's a pill for it but I left them back home.

We drove to the little shop of horrors, and you told me to pick one toy.

I chose your teeth on my neck, 
                         feeling the tonsils turn to molars and the molars turn to canines.

The records stops now, but I never stop spinning.
Wondering what you'll do next,
               in the hopes of making a lasting impression.

An impression that would never stick,
                                             Despite your relentlessness,

Because apathy is harder to kill than love, and in the end we both wont care either way.