Thursday, May 20, 2010

Turned On By Shopping.

I don't know what it is about you, Anthropologie.
Your ADORABLE clothing. The way you present yourself.
How much you think you're worth.
You're playing hard to get with me, and I'm about to give in.

Ugh. I don't even know what I'd do with you, bag.
But I can't stop staring at you.
I want to put you on my shoulder.
And fall asleep together.

Quit playing games with my heart, oxfords.
I've been burned by shoes so many times.
But you make my ankles weak.
(No, really. My ankles are just weak.
I fall. all the time.)

I'm not afraid to admit that I want to get you pregnant.
And force you to keep it.
Despite the affects it would have on your life.

Look how fun and bright you are!
You're the coat I would wear because my other coat is being a bitch.
And she's a bitch. A lot.

Wait, why did I make my coat lover a girl?
Why do I always do that?
Ugh. Time to re-evaluate my life.

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