The Phone Call

Waiting. Waiting for the words to come out. Phone call. Late night. She's been drinking, I've been thinking. Hoping.
Hoping I'll move on don't f**king bother. Kiss me. So I have the chance to bite your lips off, darling. It's so like you to be so naá¯ve. You can't ask for my assistance, your father's a joke and your mom's so jealous. Leave them and live with me. So why spend time cleaning up your mess? The drama's over. Your advice means nothing and its months too late.
Your ride is over.