It all kind of
Blurs together,
The mishaps
And "what if"s.
The well-wishes
Of old friends
Etched carelessly
With bleeding ink.
Looking through
Yearbooks, trapped
Behind cartilage cages.
When you think
About it all too
Hard, your lungs
Do a flip-flop.
But when you don't
Think about it at all,
Your skull feels bare.
"Bittersweet"
Is the name
Of the game.
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 12:34 AM UTC
It all kind of
Blurs together,
The mishaps
And "what if"s.
The well-wishes
Of old friends
Etched carelessly
With bleeding ink.
Looking through
Yearbooks, trapped
Behind cartilage cages.
When you think
About it all too
Hard, your lungs
Do a flip-flop.
But when you don't
Think about it at all,
Your skull feels bare.
"Bittersweet"
Is the name
Of the game.
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