When you realise he’s maybe just not that into you and everything slows to a snail’s pace and you start tearing your hair out and balling your eyes out.

The journey has come to a screeching halt From pedal to floor I heard its thunderous roar As it stopped dead in its tracks. Panic ensued Anxiety came Asking myself "what is this game?" Because we've started shuffling cards, dealing hands And I'm no longer chugging along sands Of limp, moth-eaten metal No carriage to… Continue reading When you realise he’s maybe just not that into you and everything slows to a snail’s pace and you start tearing your hair out and balling your eyes out.