The story of the anthropomorphic pizza that's been laying there for a few weeks now

I got you on my mind,
haunting me most of the time,
like 24/7-11,
pizza on my floor,
laughing at the matter,
of me locking my bedroom door.

Fearful of the fact,
that you always come back,
keeping windows shut,
just to keep the thought out.

A whole box of grain stuck in my throat

Finding my thoughts,
as I gather the right words,
here I am listening loudly,
as you speak so calmly.

I'd let you take me to hell,
just to hold your hand,
one last time.

And now I'm missing the days,
when I didn't have to stare at the ceiling,
with all the words in my throat,
no wonder you find me misleading.

Won't you turn off the engine,
roll up the windows,
sit in silence, alone, with me.