I fucked up again.

I fucked up again

I fucked up again.

How many times?

I don’t keep a count.

Of course, you don’t.

What did you do this time?

Same old shit.

Loose talk. Can’t you for once have control over what you end up blabbering?

I sometimes wish I cut my tongue.

Suicidal tendencies, since when?

I should kill myself than slowly kill people who actually give a fuck about me, my life.

I guess the best way out is if you shut the fuck up, don’t you think?

I know, I know. I talk too much. Shit most of the time.


Very few people are patient enough to deal with your shit, but you can’t keep them intact, can you?

How I wish I didn’t say those nasty things I end up saying.

What can you do about it now?

I can’t do anything.

I’ve just left scars like they are some fucking tattoos.

You don’t realise how forgiveness works, do you?

It’s not like you hurt someone and then say sorry, they forgive you.

It’s like chopping someone’s hand off and wishing it’d grow back after you said sorry.

I…I didn’t mean any of the shit I said.

Why should people believe you?

I am helpless.

I just hope they’d have the power to understand.

How do you still hope?

Like seriously! Understand? You?

Am I so difficult to understand?

No darling, you’re always way too easy to be misunderstood.


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