Scrambling, fretting, stumbling, over words, over thoughts of being over.You did nothing wrong but life comes barreling in to remind you who’s in control. Anger comes but in no ones direction. Memories you had looked forward to making are fleeting before you got the chance. Deep breaths, deep thoughts. Both seeking comfort and confidence in what soon may be gone. Scrambling, fretting, stumbling over thoughts of being over, I can’t bare to let go.
Aim - Good Disease