goodness you’re a mess. all stumbling feet and rambling arms and a tongue that could talk for miles. mama would have a fit if she could see you now, see you struggling for breath after fighting your way through a crowd of your own terrors, see you choking on your own greed and spite and all of the flaws mixed into your gray matter. forgive me if i’m wrong, but this is not the path we forged together, you’ve strayed. strayed in an unshaven face, yesterday’s tshirt, ‘when was the last time i ate’, sort of way. maybe i was a fool for thinking you’d be faithful to the person you were before, but how could you be when you weren’t even faithful to the person that i was? clean yourself up, find yourself again. i need you-who you used to be.