HAh.
LmfAo.
ThAt's funny.
You think i hAve A choice?
You think i wAke up every dAy,
wAnting to think of how sorry i Am
for things i didnt even do?
You think i choose to be sorry for everything thAt hAs ever hAppened to me in my life And be thrown in A nostAlgiA trip of regret And pAin every single dAy?
You think i dont wAnnA move on?
You think i dont wAnnA stop loving you?
You think I wAnt to be sorry?
All,
the,
fucking,
time?
No.
I hAve to.
I hAve to do it.
I.
HAve.
To.
BecAuse,
i cAnt think of Anything else.
I cAnt think of Anything else And my thoughts stArt to spirAl And the stAtic comes And i stArt rAmbling And my brAin gets stuck in An endless pAradox And gets stuck on repeAt sAying And thinking the sAme things over And over And over And over And over AgAin.
My thoughts dont let me think Anything else.
Those
thoughts,
dont let me think,
anything else.
God you really are a mess.
And,
plus,
it mAkes good reAding mAterial.
YOU ARE READING
maerdyad
PoetryI don't know, I just need to write stuff right now. When you thought you found the one, after all this time, after all the poeple that left, and it turns out, she loves someone else. For when the rain comes, and the hail, and all hell is unleashed, ...
