Then…

 

 

Sometimes I am a real douche, I’m just too immature to understand beauty .  I am too slow to catch up, deficient in empathy, lacking in sensitivity.

 

Sometimes I am a actual unpleasant person.

Sometimes, when a light grows, it scares me. So, like a kid hiding behind her mothers legs, I bury myself beneath a stone barrier of disregard.

 

Push it all away.

 

Relief flows like water , until it becomes dark and taller than me. Then I am heavy and breathless with sadness.

 

Sometimes, I hate the girl I pretended to be.

 

I wish I could tell you, you are lasting to me, the boy with brown eyes.

 

I know you now.

 

 

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