You know what it's like when mistakes go unmade.
I don't judge people
I just watch them 'til it's time to look away
I want to look away now
Somebody's coming
I don't want to look backwards,
I don't want to even look backwards
It's not my fault
It's not my fault you don't love me
It's not my fault you don't love me
When I'm drunk
I'm wiped
I'm so tired
Carry me for a little while
Waste.
I don't know what I'm doing, don't know where I'm going, or who will be there when I'm done.
There's going to be a point at the end of this line where I'm going to come face to face with my past. I want to plan for it, ease my fear of when or where and just make the date.
I'm not making phone calls because I don't want to make decisions. I want no active part in my destruction, or my further destruction because I haven't laid the foundation for myself.
This process of eliminating and rebuilding is not new, this is what I do.
I was able to count the number of times you've left me waiting, and now I can't. This is old as well.
Quite simply put, eliminate those things causing grief. Not almost rotten fruit, moldy cheese, do you toss the whole thing out, or cut around the bad parts?
Each night I sit here, killing time, is a smaller model of what I'm doing each day. I can say I'm busy doing things online, and lie to myself, but I'm really waiting for you. Again. And again.
What do you want me to do? Throw you away?
I've failed. I've allowed each weakness to be played upon, and pushed. I've fucked up, and I'll continue to fuck up, because it's so easy to do.
I had three days.
There will always be something more pressing, more important, more immediate than me. Always as that is the way of the world.
I'm sorry I'm not nearly enough.
It's not my fault you don't love me.