I’m Sorry, I’m Sorry.

They say I sit in the bath too often. They say it’s unrealistic for me to wallow in my mixed emotions; a soup of me. I think it’s unrealistic to expect of me anything less. A fish without fins; a bird with clipped wings. I’ve been trapped to this city for so long. The skyline bleeds into my bones. The buildings illuminate my eyes and I think this is it, it’s over. I am fading away. I am melting away. It’s going to end, someday, darling. It’s going to burn. It’s going to be in ruins; just like this city; just like myself; just like my heart.

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