I couldn't run far even if that was what I really wanted to do. This isn't about standing still.
There is a sickness that corrupts my systems every stagnant moment spent.
An unrighteous decision again, it seems.
I've lost my way, too far, this time.
This is about dismantling my ego, my mistakes, undone ends of my solitude episodes,
fine-tuning ids, accountability of me pushing everything off the table,
holding up my principles, not becoming other people's idea of me, rejecting my own assumptions,
accepting my physical self, growing my mind and perspective, and tying everyone I want to keep around by give-and-takes.
Some come around and I come undone.
Not one person I could hold on to this time around and I
am having hard times remembering that no one
is going to help me pick up pieces of myself, but me.
A journey twice down the same road in the same clothes
but I've got different ideas.
People are only as complex as we perceive them to be. I'm learning that there are no bad people.
Just easy kind people, and complex kind people.
I hate it that I am unforgiving. Not proud of it.
Good people who are complex, I cut off without remorse because I can't get into their headspace.
I didn't even try.
He once said to me, don't write me a love letter when you're angry,
but what better time to relieve love
if not when you desperately need reminding of it?
Before the colours get washed away on cellulose papers
along with regrets, I should at least say something.
Please be patient just a little bit more with my fragile being.
Please.
