Though I’m the worst kind of friend you can have we can 
stay up for hours and joke of how sad I am. And I'll wonder how to [bad word] did you get me out of my room. I’ll tell you my secrets and what they imply and eventually we’ll be forced to watch the sunrise. And I’ll count the things that I’m not content with and guilt trip my way through another one sided friendship. And I know that I don’t know if you’re sick of me and sick as I am of myself. And I’m told that I’m old enough to know when and when not to ask for help.