Wednesday, February 25, 2009

old stuff

I cover my worries and pretend like it's "fine."
I convince myself it's okay...
just drink the bottle of wine.
Inadequacy swirls through my veins.
My heart is broken, numb from all these
stains.
I can't see a future, I hate to look at the past
I need to move on--God--how long will this last?
It stings. 
It burns.
I can't imagine a love that's real.
Everyone will fail me.
Will I ever be able to truly feel?

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