I fall for people in an instance,
and I remain broken and at the bottom of a pit
until
I
pick
myself
back up.
This is me picking myself back up again.
Because today, I realized that there was no hope for an us.
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Endlessly Falling
PoetryI have a slight problem. It is banal. Inconsiderable. Inconsequential. Insipid, vain, and trivial. Some might even some vapid or nugatory. So frivolous. But, to me it is kind of a biggie. Here's the deal. I have a problem with falling in love... re...
