I don't know how you do it. How you made two sons and never really become a real man. Not even half. And I've momentarily forgotten who you really are.
How do you keep up? How do you manage your creepy sanity? How do you come out alive after all this? How do you maintain your circus of bullshits?
Do you feel anymore guilt? Or are you just a stranger in your own belief? How does regret treat you? Are you sulking enough?
I could no longer drown with you in your ocean of bitter forlorness. I couldn't run around in circles of chances and foolish promises. I could not stand believing in your concept of love, and destruction. I am done forgiving. I've been pretty obsessed with forgetting.
You used to be my man, until it's all cold fairy tale and a series of nightmares. You had a choice but you were not a man to take it. You are NOT a man. Not even half.
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