I sit and I wait for the next strike of thunder to hit the poor, unwilling ground. Maybe I'm waiting because it reminds me of you.
I sit and sit and I watch the rain fall, thinking 'maybe if I cried outside, it would be easier to hide the pain of missing you'
1:07 am. Maybe it's time I go to bed.
1:11 am
I'm thinking that maybe it's not worth my efforts to rest if I see you whenever I close my weary eyes.
How long has it been? Since September I presume. It's June now. How long has it been since I heard the sound of your voice, reassuring me that I was loved?
Last time was January, six months I presume.
Maybe it's not worth my efforts if I hold a resentment towards the things I feel for someone who so easily can move on.
Sleep is an escape. But you were not.
It is 1:14 am now, maybe I should sleep. Forgetting you is harder than resenting you, but resenting you is more painful than loving you. Maybe I don't resent you
Maybe I resent the feelings you so falsely instilled in me
With every kiss
Every touch
Every word
Every "I love you"
Baby I do not resent you one bit
I resent the lies
You so effortlessly sewed into my
Naive and
Loving heart and brain.
Yes.
I can't resent you, for doing what you did.
I can only resent the action.
It is 1:16 now. I'm getting weary.
This summer night will fade away. Maybe the memories of you with it.
Maybe the feelings for you with it.
1:18
I'm closing my eyes for longer now.
Hopefully I won't wake up.
