i never finish phrases,
open arms are prison cells.
when i said, “i hate what i’ve become”
i lied, i hated who was
so when you start to wonder ‘bout the pain in my throat,
then don’t you ever, no never, ever, speak for someone you don’t know.
I am the robot
“I can never tell how you’re feeling”, my friend of 7 years tells me. “You’re completely different from everyone else. At any given day, I can’t tell if you are happy or sad or upset. I can’t tell. You never - you never talk about yourself”.
Andddddd we’re back. I don’t know if old habits die hard or if I just like those habits.
Nothing like your drunk birthday friend questioning you on why you are single, why you won’t date him, or him, or him.
My next cat’s name will be Nyan.