im sure i fit the obsessive type of girl you'd call a bitch to your friends

but you sure fit the description of a disappointment in the eyes of the catholic church. 

i might be obsessive in my distress over you, but at least i do not crave an oral fixation with smoke to choke me to death. im sure you'll keep a thousand more glass bottles under your bed, do you remember the second time i came to your house? i just wanted you to kiss me, but you just pulled a bottle out from under the bed. 

was every moment we had touched by the sickness seeping from your lips, tainted of ammonia and alcohol? 

lock that deep in your brain, ill be waiting with the sickness tainting my lips ready to share with you.