She's such a bitch to me. She's just a bitch.
I spend half my life avoiding her, yet she keeps
creeping up on me, right goddamn there when I
think she doesn't know where I am. If there was
ever a more patient, obstinate, life-sucking
vampire bitch out there, I hope she latches on
something else. I got enough trouble.
Go away bitch go away I'm busy right now no time no time no time.
Night after night.
And now. Here I am. Splattered on the bottom of the
fucking barrel, fucking lonely. I work myself into
tatters all day long to come home to a wrecked house
with no friends and no loved ones to spice up my
friday evening. And feeling so, I call to her. Come
by. I need you, damn it, I admit it, oh how I need
you to come and take me deep inside you and carry me
away, make me forget about all the trivial bullshit
and honest pain I endure, please. Take me.
"Fuck you," she says.
And now she's gone, that bitch. My lovely sleep. Gone.
And now that she has left me, I wish I would not
have abused her so. I wish she'd at least give me
my dreams back. She's had them for so long. . .
What a bitch.
---
insomnomaniac Omar