hey, Bobbi

'parce que c'est la façon dont le monde fonctionne'? that's a lie.
welcome to the brief encounter with my mind.

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“i know. this is really hard for me, too.”

in other words,

“why do i have to deal with you? why do i have to deal with this?” 

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Sorry, and I mean it.

I’m sorry

I’m sorry I’m not there

I’m sorry I don’t make you smile as much

As the next person certainly will

I’m sorry I’m not who you want

I’m sorry I’m not good enough

I’m sorry I’ve failed

I’m sorry you’re not interested

I’m sorry you’re so sad

I’m sorry I can’t do anything

In more ways than one

I’m sorry I’m uninteresting

Boring

A bother



I’m sorry I’m useless

I’m sorry I’m meaningless

I’m sorry I’m nothing in comparison

I’m sorry I’m a dissappointment

A complete waste of your time

I’m sorry I’m so scared

I’m sorry I fucked up

I’m sorry I’m fucked up

And I’m sorry that I’ve given up.

Permalink i would date a badman..
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regret.

‘sorry’ can only go so far -

so far is only about a foot and a half.

and no matter how many ‘sorry’s you stack on top of each other,

they’ll never rewind what’s been done.

Permalink hopeless romantics can’t help but feel helpless when taken for granted - it’s not just their romantic lives that are taken for a ride.
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tired.

reason #3489 I feel like a piece of shet..

I would rather be completely ignored.

…oh wait.

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Shut up, stupid Mockingbird.

There’s nothing behind face 

Value and it’s obvious.

And it’s exhausting.



Pretty words 

For a pretty girl

That’s all that’s deserved 

And a smile 

“Baby, don’t worry about it”

It’s no matter

That face doesn’t matter

Just keep that mouth shut

Not interested.

And listen to

People who exist.

People who matter.

People much more important.

And they are.



Just a conclusion

An unnoticed conclusion

Because you’re a mockingbird

And everyone hates your song.



And you do care

You do hurt

You do feel

You do try

And fail.

And fail.

And fail.

And fail.

And all you want is to make someone happy.

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And it’s fine.

I give up. I give up on trying to trust people. I give up on trying to understand. I give up on being there for you.. when you’re not for me. I don’t fucking understand why I get this every single time - not just with romantic relationships, but any - where I listen strenuously to every word you have to say and I allow you to lean on me as a crutch without complaint; now I’m complaining. I’m tired. I’m used. I’m old beyond my years, and I don’t know why, and I can’t ever show it. I’m slowly dying and there’s no resuscitation. So I give up. You don’t need to resuscitate me. My complaints and pains and exhausted details will go unnoticed, as they have for years. As long as I can be here for you. As long as you’re fine, don’t worry. I’m here to worry for you. And it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine.

Permalink sometimes curiosity - sometimes what feels like the necessary next step.
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you’re really kind of sort of supes presh.. and I wish I was a different person.