Beloved,
There are only so many places I can follow you into. I’m sick and tired of wanting to fit into your world, one dictated by the iron grip of your idiosyncrasy, because I know I will always stick out like a sore thumb and you will never look at me anyway because I do so.
I’ve given up following you. Can you please go away?
Oh, yeah, that’s right: You were never truly here in the first place.
Shoo.
No comments:
Post a Comment