ain't first, ain't last

23

here, we go again.  engraving words
that couldn't be unspoken.

i stop for a while,
and it got me into thinking.

should i continue typing?
'cause right from the beginning,
i'm hurting about something like nothing.

do you even know how
hard it is to put it
into letters?

when the truth is that,
my stroke stutters.

you are like a spell,
a kind of magic,
that makes me question
why i am still under in this potion?

i want you to be erased.

you often makes me bleed
in your false deeds—
feel not sorry, it's not
how you made it.

let me hold me.

i might ended up
bruising in self rivalry.

care no less,
well, you don't.