By Jenna (poetic_angel@gurlmail.com) Date: 12 January 1999
Private things between you and me are now on another line of minds. And rejected problems that sat in the back are now front seat V.I.P.'s in your eyes. I spilled the milk I'm sorry I cried He was told he was loved. That was meant for you. It's all my fault. I hate mixing up conversations on call waiting. (Go Figure)