I’m as weak as I am young,
I feel my skin under the sun.
I’m wasted and loosing time
I want love but I’m not fine.

I spend my days with little time to think
façade feelings with distractions
when I thought the feelings were fading.

But its been about a month
And I’ve been sleeping badly
Still feel numb,
But I wrote a poem.
It was a list of all the things we’ve never spoken of.

You know, people often say they regret the things they didn’t do.
And I regret jumping before the boat sank.