The veins in the blood that runs through my hands

They tremble in your presence

They feel cold in your touch

And all I could do was smile

When all that I felt inside

Was someone smaller than who I already was

There you go again

With your smiles and your hugs

Which felt so wrong

And yet I’d crave for it

Why is this always a constant pattern

Deserving, or not

Who’s to say? 

With another lighted cigarette

I looked at it as it burns slowly, but surely

All that feels good is bad for you

And it’s bad, not simply because it is something bad

But because all good things (has to) come to an end


3 thoughts on “Hurt

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