You may clip me so I don’t scrape. Even use me to cut tape If I’m not treated I’ll grow long. Longer then we’ve waited for silksong Some may snack and eat me. Dirt lives in here rent free

I start as a birthday treat, with lovely layers oh so neat! I’m sweet and I’m soft, with frosting to spare, and I fly through the air when your friends don’t play fair.

I'm a thumping beat in your headphones, a fictional professional that you live in. A challenge for the wolf but you can drop me on a witch.

Without telling a story, I can make your eyes all teary. You might find me appeeling. So don't hesitate to give me a ring.

Think of the last word you see when you lose a video game. Next, the most common top level domain, then the plural of a tool no writer can live without, and last the past tense of eat. Fix em together; what do you get? A perfectionist’s worst habit.