Cold Minutes; Anger Poetry? Yeah; Possibly

19 03 2012

I’m fucking confused and all over the place, in anger, in sorrow; and i haven’t left my house all day.I’ve let my phone go for a day, and my head fucking aches. I’m spinning, and it’s an unfamiliar feeling. I’ve got nothing to show out of eighteen years of my life but a faded heart, and a bum shoulder. I’ve tried to make the best out of myself, and live through my wants, living my dreams and fulfilling my own desires.

Clouded is what I’ve been, and my dreams are fucking liars. I’ve been on a ledge above water;

It’s ridiculous how one person can read this, and throw their disregard.. but they don’t flow their feelings out or whatever.

I do. I’m not hiding them, because I’m not an arrogant, selfish fuck anymore.

and you won’t wake up and realize it’s not all about you. it’s not. this wasn’t even supposed to be about you, and my head is already aching another fucking spell.

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