Wishing never got me what I wanted, and sometimes action hasn’t either.
Jealousy only ever hurt me, and happiness was ever fleeting, a figment of my imagination.
Yet my pain bears a direct cause and I weigh heavy with emptiness.
Anger is blinding, and I lose my way when I think of you. Eyes worthlessly held wide in the everlasting dark. I feel my way through what is left of me, only ghosts and dust left behind for company.
I am consumed at times it seems; my dreams filled with foreign memories. My heart a tomb for all that was. My body needs more time to forget.
Consumed by feelings attached to once wonderful things, things simply said but so complicatedly felt.
Wishing never got me what I wanted, and sometimes action hasn’t either.
I wish I could hide myself from those who stumble across me, I am not a lesson to be learned.
I was perfectly fine before you came.
Get out, go away, be gone.
A Series of Observations 