I feel like a ghost
Like I’m here but in there, somewhere, hiding
I paint an ugly picture of me all the time that i try to keep clean
But after your truth yesterday,
there is no organizing..
It’s black, moldy.
It’s hideous and unkind,
It’s damaged goods thrown out,
It’s sadness and longing,
disappointment and let downs,
Its lack of security and grounding,
It’s eat or get eaten, it’s alone.
Fragile I guess is an understatement
But I’ve been the one to break you so many times…
I can’t seem to feel your love, I think it missed me as I was trying to clean, organize, survive
- my ****
The hurt, hurt
Our relationship is testimony to that
We should of walked away, so many times, so long ago..
but we’re here still.. crying
Maybe then you’d be a better you, a more whole you with out the added on hurt I’ve caused.
The weight of our past is crushing me
The weight of my actions are hard to look at
The weight of the hypocrisy is real
I keep on trying to clear things out
To reset the foundation beneath
After so many failed attempts,
I don’t think I know how to do that.
Everything thing I seem to use isn’t holding.
I’m scrambling for healing so I don’t lose you, lose us, lose me to this hole.
That’s really me, the damage I’ve done, who I am. What Ive been, a mean, unkind, self centered *****.
I guess I do own a glass house.
Well idk about own, it’s all Ive known.
But these boulders I’ve claimed are here for safe keeping and when I throw them, they take a lot out, but i fear that if I keep that up one day I’ll be homeless.
Cause I’m just a sad girl, in a glass house, who’s learned the art of war..
and unfortunately for you, you love me.
