The picture I have in my head of myself is being curled into a corner while life goes by. This sadness will never end. But I might.
My life is eating me up and not in a picture perfect way. In a less dramatic and agonizing way. Like, I don’t wanna wake up tomorrow and find out what might happen. I no longer want to find out what more there is to this. I’ve had enough and battled enough. In my head echoes voices accusing me of victimizing myself and being selfish. But if I were to decide for myself without feeling obliged for other people’s opinions, I’d say I’d been an open book. I’ve been genuine and honest about myself. I might’ve lied, I might’ve cheated. But I’ve never lead on something on a lie. I’ve always ended things after I’ve found myself no longer worthy of the commitment. I’m in no way defending my wrongdoings, I’m just trying to tell myself I’m not as horrible as the picture I’ve drawn in my head. There’s so much of me I could love if I just ignore some words spoken by people to ruin my will to live.
She Was Sea 