I forgot to fall in love.
You put things off ’til tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, but it never turns tomorrow and you wake up at 40 and the house is empty. You put things down and they stay in the same place until you move them. Piles form.
Some things got done. I remembered to stick needles in my arm. I remembered that I was the only person that mattered. I remembered to steal and lie and cheat and skip town in the middle of the night.
Forgot to fall in love.
Maybe next time. Too late now.