good riddance
guess, we'll see Am I at fault, incessantly? Was it my fault, as always? Should I have learned the lesson when the curtains were shut? Should I have backed off when my feelings were hurt? I was parched, surrounded by blaze, yet I learned to grow sideways. Falling, failing— I know it well, like the lines in my palm, patterns deciding my chaos and calm. So I was cautious, watching my steps, looking to the side and back, startled at every tap— worse than a sacrificial lamb. And I was so sure if I went that way, I’d be damned. I was aware— too much. It’s not that I never cared. It’s just I knew the ending without touching the book. Horror-struck, I didn’t even dare to look. As much as I wanted to be loved, the what-ifs, the fear of abandonment— steps I couldn’t took. Your arrival, my whole life shook. I cared too much for the its and bits; my love doesn’t come with a clause. Though, good riddance—I was requested to scram. But baby, that’s how I raised myself,...
