just not one good enough. parcel these moments like packages and ship them off to where they are destined.
blink slow and pretend that there are no thoughts in your head. blink slowly and listen to the voice in your head.
no story would be complete without a victim. without a hero. and some sort of debaucle. no drama would be true without a tragic mistake. and a lot of bloodshed.
it's too dark to see. too cold to listen. too sad to put to pen or pages. i can't date it. i can't mark it. staring at the screen it's all so apparent. every way that the sun did set. every dawn that warned of it.
and how friendship quickly turns on zealous hearts. and how love was never something unselfish, but rather the opposite.
i think that it had to be. for you. for me. that it was an argument greater than we could arraign.
regret asks do i. i don't have an answer yet. what i felt. what i hadn't til then. how could i ever forsake it.
was it worth it? are you still so sure? when you must kiss and make up again what visions will be in your thoughts?
it won't have to be said. i won't mention. i'll just go back to my old world and continue with these pages. it's not over because it never began. like everything i've ever loved. not taken. just never had.
