Some memories are just graffiti to the soul
Father time's hands can try to scrub the artwork away but some
images will forever  be tattooed a woeful masterpiece

I am sorry to all my pass lovers, I am sorry I did not know how to love you. I am sorry that I could not find worth in your smile, that I could not find anything but lust in your body. I am sorry for all the lost, careless secrets you shared with me. I am sorry that your memories had to be wasted on me. I am sorry I could be so blind, so negligent with your love.

Do not get me wrong,
there is not a fiber in me
that
misses you.
What I miss are the parts of me that followed you out

Growing up my parents were always selfish. They'd rather subsidize tasteful cars than their own child's education so they could prove worthy of societal thinking.
They'd rather finance love through glamorous things instead of investing in actual intimacy.

Maybe if loneliness wasn't my parental figure then this existential adult life wouldn't be spent in monotonous cognitive states

Chase the girl
who doesn't
care at all,
and hurt
the one
who does

I
seek
divine
in the
unknown