domingo, 20 de janeiro de 2013

Well what was once mine,its not going to be once more I'm afraid. All those pictures should be mine, those shy phone calls that none of us knew what to say, those should all be mine just like it was. Often I try to remember the exact time that I could have stopped myself , where I could have said fuck to world and my responsibilities and just run to you, to your arms one more time. I think somethings are just not meant to happen, but then again I'm alive, I should fucking fight against it.  Look to what I turned into, a soulless, sour and sad creature that regrets every single thing that she done in her whole life. I get so sick of people saying how proud they were for what I've been doing. I'm not proud of myself, not if I don't have the only thing that made sense to me and made smile. 

Your pride in me is a reminder of all my failures, 


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