These memories are nothing to me, just salt in the wound…


Music/title: Salt; Bad Suns
_ _

 

“And I don’t believe in the truth, truth.”

. . . .. . . … . .

 

I shouldn’t have cried.
I shouldn’t have given you hope.
I should’ve spoken every bitter word I swallowed.
But I listened.

 

Because that’s what you do, right?
That’s what’s polite?

[ I was merely being polite. ]

It didn’t affect me.
[ I didn’t wish to believe. ]

___ ___

 

What do you do when the darkest parts of you are shaken?

 

…You hope to hell that you’re right.
 

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