I was left unwanted.
The coldest forms of cold are only felt from up close. The tingling whispers of a one inch by one inch slap across my face through a tweet or new photo with her. Why didn’t you call for me when you had the chance? Why did you slip her name into my ear? If all the world was a stage, it’s clear I’ve landed right on my face. Laughed at and unwanted here. Land of dust and dirty lies by friends unfriendworthy. Who calls me here? Who let’s me stay?
Gain pleasure from my pain. I never want to see you again and I probably never will. Unless you curse my cursor with your charm and pull me into a spiraling heaven of clicks and clocks until I ask myself, where did I begin?