(no subject)
even at their best they're still the same, they give that look -oh, you know- the look. they give that look that makes you regret everything you meant and say all the right things- for them. i can't even think around you fucks, you just surround, hover, see everything i think. give me room to breathe, give me room to think. give me silence. give me a fucking chance to not look over my goddamned shoulder! i'm sick and FUCKING tired of seeing if i'm allowed to have privacy. vulture fucks. you shake the floor. you make so much noise. you interrupt. you need what you don't need and you need me to give things up for it. i'm a nice guy, but i'm not as nice as a vending machine. shaking the floor again, shaking the table, shaking my bones. can't you sit the fuck still? all of you. oh, i'm the bad guy. passive-aggressive money machine. the driver, the provider, and the blind one all at once. how do you sleep at night? i don't feel as guilty about anything as the people in my life need to feel about what they do to me. you don't live here. you aren't as welcome as you think. get the fuck out before i make you get the fuck out. guests, freeloaders, slugs. you bitch when i work, but who asked you to come over anyway? i can't wait to catch you fucking up so i can throw you out. you're useless to me.
i'm not even dating you, so give me my money back, bitch.
i'm not even dating you, so give me my money back, bitch.