“Please me / Please me / Stop at the store…”

And as I'm waiting there, I realize that I'd really like to make enchiladas. So I ditch her and do so.

“…Call me, text me, answer the phone / And make it…”

A bin of toothpaste boxes sat halfway down the candy aisle, like a postsecret whose caption would read, “I realize I don’t belong here. / (But then I wonder that maybe it’s here which doesn’t belong.)”

“…Shut up…”