My relationships crumbling to ashes. The fire is being put out. The light is fading. I’m losing my way out of this dark tunnel. The good times are scarce. And the bad are plentiful. I cry at night more than I’m happy with you. I cut myself more than I heal. How I wish it were like old times. Before school. Before friends. Before sex. When it was cuddles and laughs. When it was easy.
wanting the past
April 19th, 2003 | poetic