The mess I've made
Sick inside
Sick at heart
Sick at being unable
To see my own way
Forward
Anymore
Sick at seeing pain
Behind her eyes
Pain
That very nearly
Mirrors my own
Sick of the knowing
Sick of the feelings
Sick of just about everything
That should matter.
Because all I seem to do
Is hurt those I love the most
No comments:
Post a Comment