Sometimes you’re not in the mood for me and unfortunately that is when I want you the most…
I know that when I make canon, a thousand years from now, of all of the epic universal shit I have penned over the years that my whole life’s greatness will be boiled down to something I once wrote about loving the outside of you.
That’s all I’m really up to.
Trying to be great through my acquaintance with you.
Alas, the dichotomy… to love or be loved… decisions…
the kind knowing me won’t let you make
I’m 16,149 days old today. And you’re barely like 9,430 days. You should do what I say anyway.
Yeah you love her, whoever she is, at the moment, but she doesn’t appreciate the bitch in you like I do, I’m just saying… she might haunt you but I’ma fuck you.
Which do you prefer?
I wish we weren’t broken but if we weren’t would I even have gotten the chance to smell your morning breath?
Or love you to death?
Or get on your fucking nerves?
Or pick you up off the curb when you forget and you often do, that there is someone somewhere out there who loves you, just as much as I do
and I will kill that person.
Sometimes I get mad when you ignore me and other times I get mad when you don’t.
I just want to be mad at you I guess.
Or for you to be mad at me.
Proof you feel something…
that my needy words aren’t greedy ones
just selfish ones