You derisive mite,
I am not doing
what you wilst.
now.
Whatever. Blair was
very, very
drunk that night.
I bet
she wouldn't
remember saying she
didn't love me
either,
when she'd thought
about it. What
were we meant to do
then?
Apoplectic heat-vent,
if your mouth won't shut,
turn it away from
me.
If you are breathing
down my neck,
consult back.
I'm dead
now, but I'm
getting much better.
I'm dying to get
much better.
