The Rooftop's Solitude

Fucking idiot.
It's late at night, already past one o'clock in the morning, but I still awake, thinking about you.
Why should I think about you anyway?

* * *

Fucking hungry.
It's nearly two o'clock in the morning and my stomach feels hungry. But there's nothing in the fridge and I'm too lazy to grab my sweater and walk outside to find some foods. I'm even feel too lazy to even call a delivery.
Hey, jelly belly, could you stop asking for food for just a moment?

* * *

Fucking romantic.
It's three o'clock in the morning and the sky is clear in a dark blue ambient. The lucid view of the stars that I looked from the rooftop makes me feel little less melancholy romantic. If only I could share this moment with you.
Why wouldn't you come here and listen to my stories about love?

* * *

Fucking solitude.
Thousands stars are up in the sky, calling my name. There's nothing wrong about being solitude, it just chills the freak out of you.
There's no star up in the sky, but there's you beside me.
So why would I need stars anyway?
But if you're nowhere beside me, why would I want a thousand stars anyway?

* * *

Fucking pathetic.
It's twenty seven minutes past three, and I think I'm gonna puke. It's because of you, whom I always thinking of until it make me sick.
Can you be gone from my thoughts just for a second?

* * *

Unfuckingly persistent.
Now it's almost four o'clock in the morning and I hate for being so persistently unstable. I don't know whether I like you or not, I just don't wanna think about you that much.
But I already thinking about you that much.
I don't wanna erase you from my mindless mind, so please walk away from there.
Or maybe you should stay until the end?