Still Breathing.
Inhale.
There are so many things I need to throw away, dead flowers on my dresser, this pointless pick on a chain, little pieces of you that haunt, seduce, and drain. Every day I plan to take the damn thing off, to wash the smell of you from my sheets, to shred and tear and scheme for peace. I don't. I linger and I dwell and none of it matters. I don't matter anymore, I was as fleeting as those happy moments I let my mind pick over day by day.
Annhilate.
Forget it, I'm full of shit any way.
There are so many things I need to throw away, dead flowers on my dresser, this pointless pick on a chain, little pieces of you that haunt, seduce, and drain. Every day I plan to take the damn thing off, to wash the smell of you from my sheets, to shred and tear and scheme for peace. I don't. I linger and I dwell and none of it matters. I don't matter anymore, I was as fleeting as those happy moments I let my mind pick over day by day.
Annhilate.
Forget it, I'm full of shit any way.