my hands ache, but my fingers need to move. I lie awake haunted by all the chances at love ive been given. Ive had more women worth building a life around than Ill ever deserve, and ive thrown it all away. Ive seen true beauty, the memory of true beauty is the deepest sadness Ill ever know. I love you. I remember exactly how it felt to love you like I did then. Ill remember forever, so Ill love you forever. I guess im just tired of love. How it grabs you, compels you, rings you out, makes you doubt.
makes you think, makes you scream, makes you change how you used to be. Shapes you dreams, shapes your face, shapes what you sense when that person is in the room. All i ever think about is all the different loves I had. Each one beautiful and perfect, each sacred enough to occupy my mind forever. But there are many of them. I dont need your attention, yet my words go online. I am full of shit.