Ignored // writings

18

I'm sorry that it's always my fault.
I always create these whirlwinds of sorrow and pain.
Drama always surrounds my fingertips and whoever I touch meets the same fate of the last.
I'm sorry my brain is too fast and yet too slow that I cannot react fast enough or I'm always saying things a bit too soon.
I didn't ask to be between you two, my naive hopeless romantic of a mind volunteered.
I've only made things worse.
I had you promise me you wouldn't leave yet two seconds ago you were so close to packing your bags.
I always seem to mess everything up when I only try my hardest.

(I'm trying my hardest to be a good person)
I.R.G.
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