I'm so sorry I believed
I always do that
I stumble too easily, too fast
Head over heals tumbling backwards
Broken in pieces
Lying lifeless
Back to the drawing bored
Boredum
I hung on for dear life
onto syllables
every word sounding like truth
Every tear that falls
from my eyes like ice cubes
Tiny ice cycles
Proves once again
My magnetic pull
Is for something
I want
That I can't ever have
Always attracted to the wrong type. I must be a glutton for punishment the way I hurt myself.