And I mean flushed in the non-bathroom sort of way

Weighing my pockets with stones of longing

Especially when those days are Saturday and Sunday.

They always come crawling back

Oh, the many joys that flossing brings...

I hate hurting because of how much I loved him.

I hate not knowing whether or not he cares about anything.

I hate not knowing anything about him or us or me anymore.

And I hate being stuck here.

Immobilized at 6:10 p.m.