I told myself I wasn't gonna to do it again.
I'd done it what seems like a thousand times.
It was some fucked up shit.
But this wasn't gonna
I was wrong so now I'm in the hot seat.
I can see the disappointment in his eyes when he turns to me.
His eyes flick in my direction.
Then when I look in the mirror
I see in my eyes
cold and distant like a thin birch tree buried under snow ready to
He said he loved me.
I said I loved him.
Can love repair broken bridges?
that's some romantic shit my mind wants to play to feel less sorry for myself.
I'm sorry though.
I am sorry.