No longer can you love like you used to.
You used to call people everyday because you couldn't stand the loneliness.
It was suffocating, the idea of being alone.
And you, you are ill. You are paranoid.
Summer happened quickly.
Like a dull haze that washed over your mind.
Always, there was this bubble at the top of your stomach that twisted and squeezed.
You were never not aware of it.
And you tried.
You really tried.
And you apologized when you were the one who was hurt.
It happened quickly, an impulse.
You could not fathom what you had done, but you didn't regret it.
You still don't.
That night, you sobbed and wailed like you hadn't done in ages.
Your eyes were so swollen and puffy and you could not think straight.
You craved love.
You were so scared.
You didn't want to sleep, because you knew you'd dream.
And you did. And it was mortifying.
It is winter again.
You always loved winter. You love rain.
You used to have Christmas parties and sing karaoke.
No longer can you love like you used to.
No longer do you call someone everyday.
You rarely call anyone these days.
You cannot trust people the way you used to.
In time you'll learn, but for now you won't.
It is heartbreaking, the way you cling to your screen. The way it keeps you going, the constant distraction. Anything to make you disingenuous.
No longer do you fight for your love.
You've fought long enough. You are done fighting.
It's okay.
Maybe next winter, somebody will fight for you.
ESTÁ A LER
ballads of heartbreak
Poesia"I'm sorry that I'm like this, I'm trying my best" -essentially a diary, slight tw for being self destructive & harmful, some really good stuff crammed in with a bunch of nonsensical three am cry sessions
