Approaching Woodhill

I got an ice pick just itching to say hi to your eyeball.

You see, I really was afraid that I wouldn't be able to do it, if I saw you. Who am I kidding? When I see you. You never go too long without needing something from my house, do you? Or, without needing me, whenever everyone else in your life realizes how much they hate you and I'm the only one left you have to run to.

But, now, I know I could. I could do it, I really could. I really could. I know you never believed me, but this time, I'm serious. When I said I would be there at 7:30 and it was really 7:35, I know, I messed up. But, this time, I'm promising. I could dip this pick deep into your pretty blue eye so you'll be seeing the inside of your head and looking at me at the same time.

Funny...wouldn't it be nice if I were in your head? Thinking about me? Then when I picked ya, your eye would be seeing me and then me again, in your head, but we both know that's not true. It's okay, though, because I was always thinking of other things, too.

Like when to pick up your mother because she threw her back out again and you were too busy with...something. I forget what it was. There I go forgetting again! You were right, I am a real klutz.

But, this time, I've got it all planned for you, baby. You're gonna walk in and I'm gonna whack ya. I hope to hit your eyeball square. I think that would be the perfect place. I always know how you cared more for appearances than actuality. We never held hands while walking in crowded places so you never felt like my girl, even though I changed my shifts to be free when you wanted me to be free. So, if I got ya square in the eye, well, it'd be a perfect way to go.

The shock on your face would be preserved, none of that nasty skull-cracking (on the pretty parts of the face), and it would be instant. Well, instant...I've heard that. From, y'know, people. The same people who probably told you that you needed thirty thousand magazines to tell you how to please your man, and then, you never did a single thing in the pages of those magazines. Except lie there and ask me "are you done yet?"

Gosh darn, baby, I do love ya.

And my ice pick is gonna, too.

I just don't know what I'm gonna do with the new set of golf clubs I just bought you. They're too short for me and I took the tags off.