I’m dying. Lying. Crying. Trying hard to forget everything we ever had. But, how? How am I supposed to forget you? Us? Everything we had? It’s you, me, everything. I miss you now. More than ever. That stupid fight was nothing. What the hell is wrong with us?
thanks, she died.
what their idea of a fun weekend is-
how they hangout with friends-
how I hangout with friends-
they sleep around-
what I do with my time-
I’m so respectful and good when I’m around adults I’m like-
their mom says “NO”, they react by doing this-
If I did that my mother would do this-
and my mother says I AM OUT OF CONTROL-