It’s funny how some men believe they can take on a new form and pretend everything is okay. It’s not, it never will be.
People come and go. I never understand why I get so attached.
No, screw you. I have the right to my emotions and to hide the way I feel because the truth lays between us and always proves that you aren’t who you say you are; that this thing called “love” is merely lust in a pretty dress, expensive perfume and make-up made my Mac.
Random thoughts, you know how I like it.
But what new with you?
You and her, well you’re happy right?
Funny how that’s directly to more than one person.
Sometimes my own thoughts and words puzzle even me. Like I know what I say but my mind rambles the truth and my mouth speaks bold lies just to please and sooth my own heart. Maybe my thoughts seek what they see, peace, but has yet to settle in its bosom and just rest like a baby after birth.
You’re ripping me to pieces. Sometimes I hate the thoughts I have of you; your face staring at me through the images of my own eyes, so I close them. But sometimes I try to remember you so I search my mind seeking for a memory where your face clutch’s my thoughts and you feel “there” again, there for only me.
Random, always random but never far from vivid.
Sadness conclusion we are always left with is, I still hate you.
That will never change.