I got bored and I don't know. It's crap, but yea..
The feathers on your back tickled my neck, but that didn't stop you from plucking each one off. In fact, I think it made you pick them faster, just so you could hear me squirm, when they'd graciously fall upon me, but I don't think you realized those "squirms" were me crying out to you, yelling for you to stop. You kept whispering to me that, "It's okay." and that, "This was the way it was meant to be." You'd blow my name into the wind and I'd stand there just out of range. I wanted you with me, but not in the way you were trying to get there. Now this is me, making it easier for you so you don't have to fall. I'm picking out my favorite shotgun, and emptying the salt, grabbing the silver bullet when I heard you shout, but it was too late, and now it's me picking my feathers just to hear you squirm.