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Apr 2015
I feel like a clock that won’t stop ticking

no matter how much i want to shut up

round and round i go

repeating the same motions
to the point where i feel sick

when i reach the twelve
i like to tell myself that i can’t erase whats happened
i can’t forget but i can move on and learn from yesterdays mistakes

i still don’t like to call you a mistake

As i hit one
my resolve is steady and thriving

I deserve to be seen and to be treated like i ******* mean something

Somewhere along the way i lost what i believed in so strongly
I’m trying to find my confidence again
As i hit three
my mind is becoming jumbled
maybe from all the alcohol I’ve consumed
but hey who knows

I like to say i just want him gone but its taking everything in me to not talk to him

i miss his smile
his presence
his voice
I remind myself he wasn’t thinking of me when he was with her

As i hit five
the anger riots through my body and courses through my mind

Frugal ******* wouldn’t spend a dime on me but for her he could spend 70 dollars on the ticket and a hundred on the tux

it doesn’t add up

As i hit seven
my anger turns into a pathetic moping that i told myself i would never participate in when it came to him
i tell him to leave me alone
he doesn’t even fight back

i don’t want to give up
he’s left me no choice
i can’t even tell what time it is anymore some type of liquid has been leaking from my eyes for the past hour and i still don’t want to admit that they’re for him
I will not be weak

My limbs are growing heavy
my resolve is wearing thin

all i want to do is let him back in

I thought i meant more to him
I guess i never did

so **** him
Amanda rodeiro
Written by
Amanda rodeiro  Florida
(Florida)   
647
     Santiago
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