But you didn’t have to cut me off
Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing
And I don’t even need your love
But you treat me like a stranger and I feel so rough
No you didn’t have to stoop so low
Have your friends collect your records and then change your number
I guess that I don’t need that though
Now you’re just somebody that I used to know
Sent
it’s interesting
this paradox
we often remember
the one
that got away
with fondness and
bittersweet notions
that something
is missint
yet i find myself
having familiar thoughts
not about someone
that
got away
but someone
that i
sent away
please insert coin to continue
i found you
unhinged and cold
yet i tried to hold
on to this hope
yet my memory
had come to me
reflecting back
on distant times
it’s been so long
since i last played
this game
unfortunately
for you
it’s not been long
enough since
i last failed
this game
We were guilty
Righteous I cannot be
for you never knew
what i had done
had i told you
i know you
would
have forgave
when we parted
deep down
i felt guilty
that it was my fault
and in the end
we both left
feeling
this way
outline of a letter to write.
hello!
first, an explanation
second, i’m alive
third, i hope you’re well
fourth, keep in touch
Things are not okay.
Reaching this point has been one of the most disappointing experiences in my life. I try and I try to hang on to my optimism, but it’s just become this taunting… painful joke. Having this sensation that I’m just fooling myself… while simultaneously trying to pretend that things will (eventually) be fine. Yet that’s far from the reality that I encounter on a day-to-day basis.
Things are not okay.
Honestly, it hardly feels like there are things… they’re just daily habits that have slowly dried up.
asking ourselves
who taught you
it was okay
what made you
this way
when did you
make the change
where did you
learn this
why am i
still waiting
how did i
let this happen
Still.
The hardest part is not being able to tell you how I feel.
…not that it’d make any difference if I did.
My bank
Entwined I find myself
in a crash course
of interpersonal economics
where neither insider nor outsider can
balance this budget.
Somewhere they say
a lesson will be uncovered
despite no lighthouse
leading me home safely.
In my own arms
is where i seek profit
as there isnt anything
left to give.
trash you left behind
pictures of paths forgotten
despite any original captions
and still i find myself
lost in my memories
sweeping away myself
