I never thought I'd care
Because I never did
Not once did I think about the possibilities about anything that I did
Or that you did
And if I'm truthful with myself
I know that I'm still not
It's fucking psychotic
That I keep writing these similar words
Over and over again and calling it a poem
I'm insane
Truth of the matter is
that it was never about you
Any of this
It's all about me
And my inability to accept my own faults and mistakes in this situation
Even though I keep saying that I have
That I've moved out of these feelings of resentment and anger
Yet here I am
One more day
One more time
Writing this poem again for the thousandth time
Trying to squeeze my emotions out through every click of my keys in write room on my phone
I'm retarded
Ahem, mentally challenged.
Whatever.
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