what now.

Awe of you, odd for me.

Givin a shit aint how I get down.

But I dreamed of you and that sold me.

I met you a few times there. You sang and sounded funny.

I liked it.

I like you.

So what do I do now? I mean

You kinda know, not sure if you care what would you do even if you did.

Probably nothing, you know Nothing is in style now.

Pretend indifference in my speech. Can you hear it? Tell me you're convinced.

Naw, I don't give a fuck homie.

a fuck.

Not a fuck. I give all the fucks.

See your face. Can't see mine, can you? Funny that way.

Take your suggestions. Adapt to things you say. Try to figure out how

if at all I could fit

because I already know i dont.

I don't mention it.

So why bother? Don't know.

Awe of you. Odd for me.

fricka-fracka please pass the ketchup.

You were.

You were tall. You were light. You would write, and the shit you would write would make me want to kill myself, but I told you I loved it anyway.

Let it happen.

I loved you, but there were things I shoulda done. Better.

You were.

You were an asshole. You would hurt me. You were gorgeous, an angel. You would get all silent and crazy, sometimes you'd make me cry.

You were.

You were my heart, my love, my life. I wanted to make things better for you. You were my reason. You were my happiness, my sunshine. You were my baby.

Let it go.