Brush Spit Rinse Repeat Poem by Foster Teegarden

I lay here on this hard floor
crying myself to sleep.
There's no point wasting my time.
Brush, spit, rinse, repeat.
With no one to hold on to,
quell my desires dear.
I need you, can't you see that.
I'll even live without a fear.

You know I would be there to
help you again to breath.
If your life was in peril,
I'd be your overseer.
Keep you from phony angels,
make it my career.
But you go with them instead,
again you disappear.

Now you're gone, I won't see you,
and you won't see me,
as I cry here before your
picture on my screen.
Have a nice life in heaven
with 'perfect' company,
cause nice guys will always be
falling in the deep.