I was scolded for not writing enough. Eat shit.
It's dreadful seeing him walk away from you, mascara streaming down your wet, tear filled face, with his arm around her waist, the grimace on her face; destroying, unerasable, irresistible.
It's dreadful having everything slip away, fading so fast, what was part of your past, but it just wouldn't last; wanting, unbelievable, irrational.
It’s dreadful knowing that every second that goes by, you feel like you're going to die, and you can't help but cry, as he says goodbye; ending, unstoppable, irreplaceable.
I just pooped on my plate. About to eat it. Happy?
ReplyDeleteI love the -ing, -un, -ir theme. Quite clever.
And it's great. Just don't like this fear, though.