it’s absurd,
you keep breaking—

deep down,
you’re tired
of it all.

sick of it.
sick of
the fall.

“traumas,”
you keep sayin’—
“i’m over it,
i’m okay.”

but all you’ve done
is what you had
to do:

survive.

and now you live
with words
you can’t take back.

it’s wasting
your time,
your energy.

the only one left
is you—
and you’re not okay.

nobody hurts you
worse than
you do.

so why
keep this up?

take a breath.
open your eyes.

everything
will fall in place—

this time.

ten years,
too late.

ten years—

and there's
no debate:

i will do
everything

to not be

like you.

i'm no saint,

but i know
when enough
is enough

and to draw
a line,

before it's
too late.

people come
and people go;

and i've come
to terms with
forgiving

and letting
go.

but in the midst of
it all, i hope
to be better

than to
risk it all.

because impressions
are forever,

and

i've learned
to forgive you
and move past it

rather than fall.