my memory of you, it was this time last year - i fell in love with you, somewhere between going to your house and the drinking. you would cook hot dogs in the microwave and tell me i could never be fat. i got restless sleeping on the floor, hiding under covers chilled, and i left before the dawn. this was before i lost our solidarity.
after, i wake up now in the middle of sleeping and all i feel is an emptiness. kind of like what you told me about when what's her face left.
and when with you by chris brown comes on the radio i feel his villains, but mostly my own.