 Fifteen, Australian. Photography, good music, good friends, good memories. Long phone calls. Amor Vincit Omnia, ♥. |
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Once it's broken, it's gone.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
There's no pretty words here, tonight; no metaphors or warped comparisons like there usually is.I'm angry, there's no denying it.
I'm angry because I can't tell you why I'm angry because I'm afraid of how you'll hurt me.
I'm angry because I'm afraid of you.
I'm angry that I want to hide, again - because you used to make me feel safe and confident, even from all those miles away; but now you don't.
I'm angry because other people say the things to me that you used to - and I enjoy that, because, well - you don't say them anymore, do you?
I'm angry because of everything that happened. Rather, everything that you did.
I'm angry because I'm sure you know how you make me feel, and I can see that you just don't give a fuck.
I'm angry because I'm being left behind. Again.
I'm angry because you promised. You. Fucking. Promised.
I'm angry because I'll never get through to you now and it can't be fixed.
I'm angry, because I know you'll read this. And I know you'll know this is about you. And you won't do anything about it, because I'm the one with the problem so I'm the one who should try and fix it.
I'm angry because I want to leave even though I fucking love you.