Song: Billieeilish, everything I wanted.
I hate my thoughts, their like the sun, always hanging above my head. Sometimes I think their cold, sometimes warm. Sometimes scorching.
I hate her. She's perfect but imperfect. I have a best friend, and I care so much about her, I'd die for her. But, I hurt her.
She has another best friend. She's number one at everything. She's perfect. She gets the boys, she gets the girls. She's pretty, she's available, she's understanding, and she isn't clingy. I'm the opposite. Maybe I have a small, teensy amount of pretty.
I can't help but hurt her. Her names Kat. She's my best-friend. I tell her everything, but my thoughts.
Warm:
These thoughts are normal, your average, "hm, what's number 2?" "Does she like me back?" "I'm ok I guess"
cold:
These thoughts are frightening, "I'm used to feeling alone, I want someone, I need someone.
Hot:
These thoughts make me cry. they make me regret. "Why is she always there for her!?" "I'm toxic, but why do I keep doing this?" "I know what I'm doing wrong so why do I keep doing it?" "It doesn't feel good when I get what I want anymore."
