Maybe it's boredom, or lack of people.
I hire a prostitute called Max to tag and play hide and go seek; She thinks it's wierd, repressed sex stuff. I just miss having friends who are girls.
Maybe it's the wrong prostitute.
I play with a squirrel, they are so nice and cuddly, almost like muffins; And I imagine you playing with us in the bushes too. Maybe it's the lies that break me down, or that special lie when you say you love me; or the simple fact, you wouldn't want me and your squirrel play in the bushes together..
Maybe it's the wrong boyfriend.
Or maybe I like to dwell.
whatsoever
It's not hard to wake up in the morning, feeling all alone and bitter. The trick is to go back to bed feeling at least better.
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