Will I die of loneliness?

Maybe.

But not today. Today I'm okay.

I am better than yesterday and worse than tomorrow.

Everyone wants recovery to be short.

Why can't I feel better sooner?

Why?

I guess your recovery has been fast.

Hanging out with your friends to our places.

Laughing hard with a bottle of beer.

And you're numb again up and down on the road, another bar, another girl to fuck.

I don't want feelings, it's bullshit.

I bet I'm bullshit too.

I miss you princess you cry. I cry too.

I hate to see your heart break but what about mine? Where did you throw it? Oh I found it, it's not a heart anymore, they'll need patience to fix it.

I said I hate to see your heart break.

You cry again but you have a girl over there tomorrow.

Yes, I guess your buddy hates to see my heart break.

Now I'm the crazy one.

What did I do?

Now you say it's you.

But I can't turn off the picture of you with someone else.

In our bed.

Where we slept. You pulled me closer to your chest. Hey princess don't go away, stay.

I'm holding my arm now, not yours anymore. No one has to touch me yet.

I am so scared.

I don't know if I'll ever see this through another prospective and keep the best parts: our songs, my better food tastes, places, sayings.

I don't see my future clearly.

But I'm still listening to 916Frosty's Enough when I'm not alone, I'm drinking mojito and eating strawberry slushy and I walked to the Blue Bar to see if you were there.

No, I'm not going to die today.

I'll be better tomorrow.

But I don't have to thank you.