PsychoKitten
Bluelight Crew
I thought I was over this all... guess I’m not. How come every time I think I’ve pulled myself back together, you come waltzing into my life with well placed words and make me want to believe in fairytales.
I want to go back to the days when I felt love rather than loathing; I want to go back to before we ruined the dream. blah blah blah. I want to feel sorry for myself, for you... but I can't.
I can't even tell if I’m sad, angry or just plain old resigned but I do wish you no longer made me feel at all... to be able to look at you, to listen and to not care either way what words tumble from your lips.
I guess the Tuesday blues are hitting a little late and as usual, you have impeccable timing.
Thanks for pointing out yet again my failings, thanks for reminding me that it was all my fault and that if only I hadn't been so bitter, so scared, so unwilling to try, perhaps if I had loved you more, loved my freedom less, been willing to compromise then maybe I wouldn't have hurt you like this.
Fuck you asshole (the anger creeps in now, like always). This tumult of emotions that I have to deal with each and every time you come near me, the sick twisted pleasure you get in reminding me that I could have had it all, if only.
If only in fairytales and if only in dreams, if only I had sacrificed the life I need for the life you wanted.
You cry that you love me for being me yet you expect me to conform, accept, and change fundamentally who I am to become who you want and what you need.
Goodbye, no more! I’ve had it with you; I’ve had it with the dark, depressive swirls you drag me into, the constant worry and recurring pain, the self-doubt and recriminations. I’m taking responsibility for my choices and my choice was not you.
I want to go back to the days when I felt love rather than loathing; I want to go back to before we ruined the dream. blah blah blah. I want to feel sorry for myself, for you... but I can't.
I can't even tell if I’m sad, angry or just plain old resigned but I do wish you no longer made me feel at all... to be able to look at you, to listen and to not care either way what words tumble from your lips.
I guess the Tuesday blues are hitting a little late and as usual, you have impeccable timing.
Thanks for pointing out yet again my failings, thanks for reminding me that it was all my fault and that if only I hadn't been so bitter, so scared, so unwilling to try, perhaps if I had loved you more, loved my freedom less, been willing to compromise then maybe I wouldn't have hurt you like this.
Fuck you asshole (the anger creeps in now, like always). This tumult of emotions that I have to deal with each and every time you come near me, the sick twisted pleasure you get in reminding me that I could have had it all, if only.
If only in fairytales and if only in dreams, if only I had sacrificed the life I need for the life you wanted.
You cry that you love me for being me yet you expect me to conform, accept, and change fundamentally who I am to become who you want and what you need.
Goodbye, no more! I’ve had it with you; I’ve had it with the dark, depressive swirls you drag me into, the constant worry and recurring pain, the self-doubt and recriminations. I’m taking responsibility for my choices and my choice was not you.
It's been a while since I've written anything and this one came out like it was bursting to jump from my mind to the paper 
