Tired of being alone? Tough shit, turns out it's life. You wake up one morning and feel like dying so you go back to sleep, try to shake it off. No good, so you get up and have some eggs on toast. That only jogs your memory with the dream you've been having. Some deathly depressing scenes about your family you hate, and the earlier theme of running away was no help. You only made everyone sad.

And I do so hate when everyone's sad. You know that cute smug smile that breaks across your freckled nose like sunshine or something else real nice on a sunny mosquito filled afternoon? I live for that. Which is funny, since it's why I'm curled up in my tummy now, cause that's missing. That happens so often. Then when there's a real nice scene on the telly and it gets happy again, and it's like spraying breath freshener in it, that same tingle and swoop. Then it goes away real quick again, when I turn to my left, giggling, and you're not there returning the feeling.

Just like how food's that much better when it's someone elses, all those moments are 15% of what they could have been, cause our laughter is such a mirror, bouncing the good times back and forth.

You won't ride bikes with me, or go to the park, or hold hands, and damn it if you're going to sit still long enough for me to get a good look at you and have you really look back and see me.

Sometimes I like to watch our feet
hit the ground at the same time, or hear the same phrase uttered, or share a sip of coke as a direct result of that. You never take it the same way, and sometimes that's okay, cause how else are we to keep any company around? Mostly though it just sucks. And I curl up in my belly again, and the moon hides for a real long time.