For worse? In sickness? For poorer?
Nah… you never did.
Everything that was mine was yours.
Everything that was yours was yours.
Go. The world is your oyster ashtray.
Go and get on with your life.
Feed your sense of entitlement
to what you’re not entitled to.
Yoo-hoo… anybody there…?
Nope, didn’t think so.
Wherever I go, you will unfollow.
Have another drink on me.
My blood does not run thicker than water.
I am sorry. (Not that your care.)
I have loved every minute of working for you.
I am so sorry.
You melted my heart.
It bleeds for you.
Love you always.
I lost you before I had you.
But you were my child.
And now I miss you.
Rest in peace.
May 20, 2009
(corrected February 2010)