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Who told you you could look at me that way?
Tell me I'm pretty. Tell me I'm pretty.
And you with your strong arms and your non-existent bum.
I'm sorry I'm too busy.
Beside you I am just a pebble waiting to choke.
I think you are....
And I miss you.
A lot.
And you can tell your mother that she makes great spaghetti but because of her I have lost my touch with parents.
Looks like I've given up on life.
I wish I could get chased by cops with you and have fun adventures and that your friends didn't hate me and your mother too, and probably your dog that doesn't exist and I wish you were my friend everyday and that you wouldn't give me that weird side smile and that you would have stood up and that you would have at least looked at me longer.
I look like shit, I feel like shit but at least I don't smell like shit.