Right when I turn my back you call me a weirdo. That's OK because I can't make you love me. I'm not a thug. I'm not a jock. I damn sure ain't no prince charming. This time it's on you Bea.
You could give me all the sink looks you want. Dying your hair crazy colors and wearing stretchy pants doesn't make trip or fumble. Glancing doesn't help too much either. It's as if your playing a game and you aren't winning it.
Me personally I don't condone non of this. Trying to exist through all of this madness can sometimes be hard. Do you know how I deal with it? I simply walk away.
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