there's a certain comfort in not knowing—or so i thought.
but not knowing causes me unnecessary thoughts: what ifs and maybe-apprehensions.
not knowing gives me an entire universe of things that could possibly hurt me.
i think it's unfair for me to keep getting hurt because you still held on things that reminds you of someone else.
i keep hurting over the same thing; i keep overthinking the same thoughts.
maybe because it's hard to be at war with the subconscious.
you think you're free; i try to believe you've completely freed yourself from the hurt, but i keep feeling you're just yet to do that.
when you look at her, do you remember that you love me? and of how greater of a feeling that is than the pain of what's over?
that's all i need to know,
that's all you need to tell me.
YOU ARE READING
Skyless constellations
Poetrya compilation of anything; the things that my mind and pen nudges me to put into paper. read if you have time to spare
