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patrick
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tulip boy I’m lonely and moody and looking a little wide these days.
But you should still be here.
Maybe this is my way of saying that I miss you.
Or parts of you,
like the part of you that really liked me.
And the part of you that would stay up late with me.
I won’t ever admit it these days,
but I’m still feeling the sting of what you said to me.
And sometimes I can’t take it, because you mattered to me,
as did every word you said
(mainly that you didn’t care; I felt like less than nothing)
I won’t ask to be your friend again,
I won’t say a word to you
because I know that every word I say is shit to you.
I miss you, but there is no respect left,
so I’ll carry on this way.
Until I won’t even remember your middle name,
which is
