Untitled


We live.
We die.
We alienate each other.
Without cause or intent,
but silently I meant it.
I made you suffer,
so finally it wouldn't be me.
We keep falling in the wrong mouths,
especially not each other's.
I want to hold your hand.
Instead,
I'll hold back my hair.

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This Poems Story

This is an older poem about the heartbreak I felt after my first love and I broke up.