It’s ironic,

I feel like that a lot.

Like you don’t care,

can’t hear,

don’t appreciate.

Like you’re too preoccupied.

It seems like you care about yourself,

and nothing more.

I’m not saying that you’re the only one out there who’s like that.

You’re not.

Everyone’s

world

revolves

around

themselves.

But maybe while you were sitting on that huge rock you could have thought about something other than just yourself.

Maybe you could have considered the fact that I was in the woods,

while doped

immobile, dizzy, zoned out, frozen.

Maybe---

you would realize that I was in the same situation that you were in.

But you didn’t…….

It’s okay, though.

You don’t realize a lot of things.

You don’t notice when I do something nice for you.

Did you know that I bought you a bean burrito that afternoon?

I thought you would be hungry.

And hey,

just out of curiousity,

Did you notice how those incenses I got you for Valentines were moon scent??

Did you realize that it was for your zodiac, you know, Cancer is ruled by the moon…

Probably not, you probably can’t even remember me giving them to you.

That painting I gave you…

I liked it.

Sorry if you didn’t.

I thought you would.

But you didn’t.

I painted it with you in mind.

As in I painted it for you.

Darla wanted it.

I told her it was for you.

I gave it to you

and you thought it was a joke.

You didn’t want it.

You tried to hang it in the hallway,

hoping I wouldn’t tell you to put it in your room.

I didn’t have to,

Tracey did.

Now it’s on your floor,

isn’t it?

But whatever.

It’s not like I care.

I don’t care like you don’t care.

Like you don’t care that I’m too afraid to go inside the building.

And I know we haven’t completely established 3-0-3 yet,

But it only works when you’re actually somewhere,

and in retrospect, we were nowhere.

I stayed there with you.

I wanted to leave.

I stayed there for you.

I thought you would want company.

If you wanted me to leave, then you should have told me.

I would much rather be reading my book about colors, contracting HIV, or painting another stupid fucking picture that you’ll probably hate more than the one before.

Whatever.

It would be better than sitting beside someone who doesn’t appreciate anything you do for them.

& Just so you know

----I already know that you think I am ugly. You don’t have to dance around it.

And we would all like to meet someone who would like to take our picture.

Oh, and maybe someone who would share the mirror instead of grasping their tits and twisting into weird angles trying to find the prime leaning position in which their breasts appear their largest.

People would probably like to be in a band with someone who would be willing to eliminate their first name from the title, cause, you know, you’re not the only one in it.

My feelings are hurt.

They have been hurt for a long time.

You don't need me to poison your tea.

You've done it yourself.