I knew I'm crazy. Knew it was coming.
It was promising though.
I wasn't ripened enough to hold and welcome it. But now I see altogether why things slashed, and the only words I can crave up to say to myself is, I’m sorry. I'm regretful to say that I got caught up in myself, to give myself what I needed. I let myself become secluded in the depths of misfortunes out of fear of denial. Remorsefully, I wasn't bellyful for myself as ruthless as it is for me to say.
I wish I could've given myself all that I desired, cherished. I just couldn't because what I fancy isn't who I am. And truly, I feel that if I would have actualized things sooner, it would have saved me a lot of heartbreak.
I never tried to comprehend. But, I know in this moment I know something…
I tried to know my heart and forgot who "I" was in the growth. A part of me still pains me to believe that I am walking from this now, from myself, from everything.
It's all fair in this conflict.