Sometimes I think about all my dreams, expectations and thoughts. About life and about love. Then I have to give myself a huge mental slap.
Because you know what dear? Talk is all you're ever gonna get. When the going gets tough, the bullshiters get going.
Well, a hearty fuck off to them I suppose. But I want the pieces of my heart they stole back. I fucking want them back so rip them out from yours and fucking HAND IT OVER.
They're mine to keep. You lost them the moment you decided that you didnt care enough.
I know, I know.
I've brought it upon myself.
Doesnt make it any easier whatsoever though.
B? You know what? You were right. I will never find a guy like you and sometimes, I'm really not sure if thats a good thing, or a bad one.
But you're happy B, so good for you. The story of us is a lot like a tragedy but thats how all my stories go, I suppose.
Maybe I'm not " pure" enough eh? Not Angelic enough?
Well fuck that.
I am who I am.
No comments:
Post a Comment