you call
and i know
you sound
drunk with
impatience
permeating
discomfort
and i don't
know
why it always
comes to this
a hello
irritation
a sigh
and ends with
whatever.

all my loves
go away
ending
with
whatever.

it's like that ron white joke...about being at the airbase, performing for like 9,000 airmen or something, and the lady from the back yells out "Yeah, and every one of them's a bad lay" and ron says, after the 8,999, wouldn't you think...

maybe it's me?

maybe it's me?

i mean really. maybe i'm destined to love and be loved by puggles and friends and maybe that's as good as it's gonna get...