your brain is programmed ‘what about me’

You wanted me

to be there for you.

but you used me as a dump,

to put your shit inside.

and instead of asking why I cried,

you played the ‘what about me’ card,

what about me?

when we drank litres of alcohol,

destroyed our friendship because you wanted some,

you went around using your dick,

like you had no brain to actually think,

you complain that she is just the same

then run off with her anyway

and I hate to know that in a few years more

you’ll probably have a child

and all the time

you’ll be sat there

whilst shes swaying the bundle all on her own

and you’ll be thinking

‘what about me’

what about me

what about the people in and out your life

such a shitty way to be

but I guess we’re over

and its nothing to do with me.

 

 

2 thoughts on “your brain is programmed ‘what about me’

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