it's 10:42,
and all i want is you.
this room keeps spinning and spinning,
and i don't know what to do.
there's eighteen different voices
demanding i make these choices
because, girl. it's the bottom of the inning.
stop. there are too many noises.
it's okay. it's all in my head.
still my veins are dripping blood red.
oh, how i wish i could go back to the beginning,
but i sit here hoping that i'll just drop dead.
so here's to a stroke of luck,
to life not being able to ****,
to having you back because then i'll be winning
instead of crying my eyes out like a pathetic ****.