With you're smooth skin and happy eyes and flippy hair.
And your smile and jokes.
You don't understand at all how you're like a precious artifact in a museum.
I know I shouldn't touch you, I'm not allowed to get too close.
You don't know how hard I'm trying to keep my hands from trying to snatch you.
I remember the alarms going off and the bars coming down on my fingers last time.
I can't explain to you how I seem to forget about it when I see you.
I'm breaking all the promises I made to myself.
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