At Buffalo Wild Wings with the boys the other day and that Pink song came on about being perfect. I began sobbing at the table and had to be prompted by Tim to take my hysterics to the bathroom where people weren't trying to eat.
Tonight, I rambled through my kitchen cupboards hunting for a plate I could break and wouldn't miss. The rage is relentless. I wanted so badly to destroy..to wreck...to break something that was once whole and functioning... to hear the plate break against the ceremic tile, to see the pieces scatter...big pieces, jagged pieces, small pieces, shards too thin to even pick up properly.
There, people who think they know just what they'd do, glue that shit back together. Tell me how long it takes you and tell me if it's a plate you wanna eat off after your done.
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