always

always attached. always broken. always searching. 

my emotions get the best of me as each man enters and quickly leaves my life. I guess that’s my fault, though. my fault for thinking I could maybe find a meaningful relationship on a shitty app. of course, I’ve had some fun with it, with one-times and a couple friendships, but this gaping hole in my heart cannot be filled by superficial love and small talk. I know I shouldn’t blame music, but who wouldn’t feel empty after listening to Keaton Henson or Daughter? My feelings have gained the reigns of my mind and I’ve lost control of my thoughts. I can’t deny my excitement when his name glows from the backlight of my phone, and I know he doesn’t experience the same delight from my own. I guess that’s the worst part. not the painful knowledge of this stupid wishful thinking, but the fact that I’m living in the very cliche I’ve laughed at in the past.

This poem is about: 
Me

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