I Was Selfish, I Was Hurtful, I Tortured The Ones I Loved
time passes.
even when it seems impossible.
even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise.
it passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does.
even for me.
I was laughing, actually laughing, and there wasn’t even anyone watching.
I felt so weightless that I laughed again, just make the feeling last longer.
even when it seems impossible.
even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise.
it passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does.
even for me.
I was laughing, actually laughing, and there wasn’t even anyone watching.
I felt so weightless that I laughed again, just make the feeling last longer.
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