l think about you on these roads to nothingness, I think about my pain or regret or guilt that have become dead-end branches off my heart forever reminding the blood running through me that I could have been better, that I fucked up, that some things are never undone and never forgiven and never forgotten. Have you forgiven me? Have you eulogized the branches of your own heart? Or are you still struggling to live in harmony with the hurt?
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Spacey, Melancholy /
"I can't let go. I can't look forward.
words, so many words - straining to convey inconsequential thoughts; but almost the equivalent of bleeding for me. and this is healthier. I believe."
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