Here I am with hands behind my back. I will break the mold around me. You swear that I have changed but I’m starting to stabilize! Your passion burns out. Only time will rid this shame that sits inside my brain. Reoccurring patterns never end unless something in here changes. I’ve got to fill empty spaces, Distractions and familiar faces. It’s getting harder every day. It’s getting harder to pretend that you’re still there. I guess I still believe in ghosts.
Posted on: Sat, 24 Jan 2015 03:19:43 +0000