and how unfair it is, that now i feel chastised by the mere act of feeling?
i cannot, am not allowed, to hate;
my heart would never let me,
and it would be so unjust.
regardless, I am not bad enough to hate.
i cannot, do not know how, to keep my love;
my mind will not conceive it,
and it would do me so much harm.
regardless, I am not good enough to be loved.
i feel my options slipping like sand between crooked, scarred fingers.
would it be deemed unfair, too, for me to
forget? or am i allowed the sweet release
that oblivion promises me?
or would you claim it'd destroy you, and you'd find it so offensive and unfair and cruel of me to spit you out like a broken tooth?
ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves, they say.
