Story of my fucking life

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You look at those eyes, you feel his hand on your neck while he kisses you, you moan louder and louder and you crack your heart open for someone who would pour his soul into yours.

I want that, but I don’t do it. Not because I am afraid. But because there were so many times when I gave a second chance and I got burned hard. I don’t want to do that again to myself while I am starting to put me first.

This makes me a bad person? This makes me a stupid one? Will I regret this or..?

Love definetely fucks people up.

The sky is blue, but it is a stormy blue. The rain left its mark and the smell is almost a drug that reminds you of childhood, of a new start, of a melancolic power.

I miss him. He hadn’t replied yet. We saw eachother 3 days ago, and with time flowing, he forgets to give me the attention I need and the attention he always had it with me.

I am thorn. Because he slips from me. Again someone who talks sugar with me. And I believed him.

I need love like crazy. I don’t need to stay with him daily, I need the attention I deserve.

Because I am done waiting and see how love leaves from me. With the memories aswell.

But it makes my eyes wet because he is different.


Same old story, maybe this time it will end differently.