Number Four.

February 8, 2012
I feel like I'm going to vomit. I have this thought in my head; everything will go away. But, it won't because I'm making it stay. My heart's racing, and anger is flowing through my veins. But, I taste tears, and they're filled with regrets.
I regret ever calling your name. I regret ever wishing you could change. I've learned not to get my hopes up;
Your name feels so foreign on my tongue. You're a distant memory, one I can hardly remember. But, that's just a front isn't it?

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