I feel shit right now and it's not even self pity. I can barely get out of bed and you know it.
Or you would know it if you bother to care. If you bothered to call, if you bothered to pick up the damn phone to even text me.
Half the time you don't bother. I'm fucking tired of doing the chasing.
But three days later I'll be at it again. It'll be nice to actually hear a word of concern.
Sometimes I think you enjoy me chasing you, then offering scraps of attention to this attention seeking whore.
That's all I am to you anyway.