I want to kiss him, make love to him.
I want to hear his stories and feel him; the beaming excitement as he reminisces.
I want to wake up in his arms, I don't want him to go.
I want him to stay, love me over and over again.
I want him, I don't need him.
Listening to that old Ellington record on my own, by myself, feels a little bit sad. I miss us lying around, stoned and talking about our journeys so far. It was something off the bucket list. Now it's done, I'm underwhelmed and heartbroken. This is not what I wanted, this was never what I wanted.
What do I do, I feel all kind of blue.
I used to think I'd be the kind of person I am now when I'd hit that 30-mark. But instead, I find myself sharing these experiences with thirsty thirty-year olds who currently want nothing more, just my body.
Tit for tat, I guess.
A very sad one where I'm left with the short end of the stick unfortunately.
The story ends and that's that.
Untimely, all I can say. In retrospect, life's always been like that for me. I should have gotten used to it by now, the constant
Growing up is hard.
It is inevitable. Why so early though? I thought I had some more time.
Sinnerman, what have you done?
Everything is always a loop. Breaking out is my salvation.
The story ends and that's that.
Untimely, all I can say. In retrospect, life's always been like that for me. I should have gotten used to it by now, the constant
Growing up is hard.
It is inevitable. Why so early though? I thought I had some more time.
Sinnerman, what have you done?
Everything is always a loop. Breaking out is my salvation.
