deviant ID
I'm a horrid writer.If I could speak, I'd tell you I miss you. If I wasn't so far gone, I'd ask you what happened. I don't really ask for much,I'm a horrid writer.
Nothing more than a pack of smokes every now and then. I would ask for nothing and give you everything if that's what it takes. Nothing hurts more than the same record playing hundreds of times, playing songs that remind me of you. I hate that I broke down and malfunctioned. You can make your own decisions, you're a big kid now, although I see that you already have. I really hope you're happy, because I sure as hell am not.
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