her watercolor tears ignite your paper lies: her promises to herself leave imprints on you
There’s a voice haunting the remnants of my thoughts
And I know it better than the back of my hand.
It whispers the contradictions I don’t want to hear,
But perceptions are fickle and so easy to mend
And self-destruction isn’t so hard to understand.
I can’t set free the callow cry or the…
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clangabangclang said:
I promised to change myself, too. For myself, and for the people around me. It hasn’t been going that well and now I don’t know what to do. Whilst my indecisiveness, certain people are getting affected. Basically I relate to this poem a lot. ^^a
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