2 More Weeks

The least I can do for you
Is spare New Year’s eve with no one other than myself
And I’ve been counting down the days in my head
I wonder if you’ll ever come about between now & then
Maybe about the phone bill
Or maybe just to f**k
Either/or I’m always here to reciprocate
Just so I can grow cold to your touch
And look into your brown eyes with no sense of love
Just animosity

I want to grow up from this
And let go of the sickness inside me:
You.