I wanna cry, but I can't
And I am reminded this is hormonal, and that reminds me that its okay, because this is not real
And i wanna talk to you. But then i am reminded not only that it won't be any good, but that we have no conversations - ie. our conversations or non conversations.
N this makes it easier
I seem to have found myself at this point in life, where I can't find anyone (else) for a chat in these moments.
N maybe thats growing up / growing old, losing friends, n getting over the juvenility (?juvenileness) of youth
I want you, but I don't; you that i want are a child, but we're not. So i don't.
Are you grown up too? guess we'll never know. this child i love.
.n ps. i miss you, bitch. Get over it n come back to me for gods sake. Fckface. How old are we now.
Is this where our old people lives lead then? How sad.
Back to telly.
