Double, double eggs.
I’m not sorry that you’re so torn apart.
But I’ve been thinking about you alone,
and I’m okay.
“I had some wine so I’m a little wooo0oo~~~~*”
Co-worker: “Eric man up!”
Me: “What do you mean? how do I man up?”
Co-worker: “Stop crying!”
Most nights bring me back to here. Where I can say that I feel like crying all the time. And where I can say that I’m sick of being alone and that I’m sick I’m being fucked around with. And even though I know your not listening I know that someone is. And some one out there is worried about me. Whether its right now or in two weeks.