Never Again Will You Rely On The Words Of Your Friends

Really?
I don't think so.

What you're doing is complete bullshit. I know it is. You know it is. I haven't thought about you in forever, why now? If you plan to back up your unsupportable keyboard, do it soon. You tell me you miss me, you want to see me, not talking to me "hurt" you. I think you're completely full of shit.

...And percocet.

They insult your drugs. A lot. For some reason, it's not really phasing me. It should. It should phase you too. I don't really want to get into that.

You don't miss me. You don't want to see me. Not talking to me doesn't hurt you. I phase you as much as the morality behind your actions does. News for you, hun: I can play the game much better than you.

I'm matching you.

Completely.

You're gonna get a mirror image of yourself. The closer you go, the closer I go. The further, likewise. Try me. You can't do what you want with me. I know how it goes, I know the loopholes, I know the phrases, I know it all.

I am bound to her.

For some odd reason, though, I miss you. For that short time, I was oddly satisfied. They're not gonna like this, but I've taken up a brutally honest lifestyle which is going golden for me. The reason I'm accepting you again isn't for your benefit. It's for me. I need to see something, but I don't know what. All I know is that I need this.

You're immaculately beautiful.
You're incomprehensibly flawed.

Mass animal murder is more of a burden than Columbine. Fucking BP and their goddamn oil.