Yes, I Have Patterns Of

This Boy Has Negative Charisma. He Walks Into A Room And The Oxygen Starts To Evaporate. I Guess That's Why Girls Sleep With Him. They Find His Awfulness Transfixing. He's Like A Lousy 1970's Disaster Movie That They Can't Bring Themselves To Turn Off, Even Though It Is Making Their Life Worse Every Minute They Leave It On.

He Was Only Twenty-five.he Was Young Enough To Miss His Youth Just As It Was Slipping Away. The Worst Kind Of Loss-the One That Is Happening As You Feel It.

I Like The Cuts - They Comfort Me - I Can't Lie.

At Least You Know Where You Are With Blood. At Least Other People Can See It.

He Was Addicted To Me And Now He Has Gone Cold Turkey. He Used To Send Me Fifty Texts A Day. And Now He Is Ignoring Me. It's Like I Was Once His Barack Obama. And Now I Am John Mccain, Conceding Defeat Like A Sad-face Sock Puppet, Knowing I Have Sold The Best Of Myself. He, My Electorate, Not Only Does Not Want Me, He Actively Feels Pity.