penelope

  • the song always ends. the concept of time still eludes me. repeat. i have lost track of the days. i lost track of them very quickly. i refuse to count them again because to do so would be to give up. who is to say that you even existed? i removed every proof of it. i say your name to myself in my head at least once a day though. i don't want to forget you because you were a warning. i forget very easily. i repeat my mistakes very easily. "this will be different because i am different." i am never different. i simply forget who i used to be and confuse who i am to be a new persona. i have not changed. it is possible that i will never change. time elapses. the song ended and i did not even notice. i am remembering you strongly now but tomorrow i will be swept away by the tides of routine once again. oh, the salt water of monotony as it burns my throat and eyes. who am i to pass any judgement with my cracked lips and protruding ribs? my long, dark hair is tied up in a knot because i cannot be ferocious today. a lion without its mane is just another useless mammal. love me. anybody. i don't even care. maybe i never did. hell, maybe i never will. who am i? who am i to ask who i am?
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