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This isn't a lonely hearts ,its me metaphorically whipping my hair

This is search for the guy that sat next to me on the 11:20 train to Kent,
I think you're jokes
we spoke for over an hour but i didn't ask for your name,
i liked your sarcastic banter and rosy cheeks
we clicked, like eating disorders on a catwalk
even though i didn't really laugh at your joke inside i felt like this



you kept making excuses to touch me,
and tried to get me to whip my hair
i didn't notice at the time
Because i kept trying to not smile at everything you said.
you kept trying to convince me that
Lord Byron and Billy Idol are really the same person
i told you about WANG
and called you a jewhead

if you see this then you will know that im ladybyron