What am I?

And what's the point?

I can sit here in my room writing stupid songs about you

Where'd you go?

I'll see you soon

See I told you that once this was done I could start having fun

Why does it matter?

Why do I care?

There's nothing for me to do in this room but stare at the wall, at my phone.

Anything to distract myselps* from the absence of your presence.

(In a good way)

You're a gas who fills the volume of every crevice in my life

I hope you don't forget me

When you're old and gray

And I'm old and brown (I dyed my hair)

And if you change your mind,

Just know that you won't have a real hard time if you decide to change mine

If I called you over

I'd have no more room

For all my stuff

For all my friends

Nothing that matters

(In a good way)

You're a gas who fills the volume of every crevice in my life

*It's supposed to be "myself" but I said "myselps" while singing and it's kind of cute... right?