Walking Pollution

So, lately I’ve been creating a big lot of problems. These are not my intentions, and I regret it all.

I see myself ending up like someone who I’ve never really liked, never really wanted to be alike.

Then things flash back in the night and I start to wonder if our actions are all drama or the aftermath of our real feeling? At least it occurs to me like that.

I see people can read faces, I can’t. So they select words to make up sentences to comfort. But that don’t really help, rather make me, in a sense, feel like things will never be ok.

Among the things I hate the most are p type roots, bloody roots.

Over, out, and asleep.