I wish this hurt would ease. Time's supposedly a great healer, but goddamn, it takes its own sweet time. It's this feeling of something is missing, an emptiness that nothing can fill. All the while the pain is there, buried beneath the layers and layers of the day's events and my own obstinate resolve. I refuse to feel it, for what good can come from embracing it and wallowing in all the nuances of this hurt? But mature thoughts count for spit in the face of life.
We flirt with happiness and feel the fleeting touch but all we are is a broken people desperate and hungry for happiness but eternally condemned to misery.
I don't think this post does any justice to a life that's been faded away but-not for the first time- words fail me and I think I'm just going to leave it at that
Happy Birthday April babies
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