It was your birthday
This day,
Last year.
I spent the night with you,
Like I did every night,
Because nights are rough.
The day went well,
I treated you right,
Like I did every day,
Because I loved you.
It’s your birthday
This day,
Today.
I hope you die alone you selfish entitled pig.
Musings in isolation in I'm starting to question isolation
- Nov. 29, 2017, 6:49 p.m.
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- Public
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