i am hanging on every word you say @ 4:43 p.m. on 11.26.2002
Seventeen years and I'm full of regret. I'm crying to forget... you, me, everything. Seventeen years and this is what I get. Relationships torn apart. You. Me. The us that will never be. The dreams I don't have, because I know they'll never be. The goals faded away, because I'm thinking realistically. The you. The me. The me. The me. It's all about me isn't it? The complex. I'll never be prettier than her. You. Crying to regret, not crying to forget. You're everything I needed. How funny things get once your feelings get in the way. Music is a catharsis of my tears, it helps purge my thoughts into this vacant atmosphere. The confinement of this room. The taste of the salt on my lips. I want to hug you, hold you, smell your cologne. "What have you got?" the voice rings in my ears. No one. Nothing. Not even myself. Is it really you I need to just be? Take care of me please. How long could I live on my own, alone, like this?
the past & the futurepast × note × book
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