no return to sender
i'm a mere passenger in people's lives.
there won't be any modesty here. i work very hard to make a mark in the life stories of the people i get in touch with. but just like a fire that bursts intensely, i don't have a lot of longevity. i'm not one to overstay my welcome, as soon as i feel i'm about to run out of purpose, i simply unceremoniously leave the relationships i once held dearly.
i just have a perversion for goodbyes. i like my temporariness despite the significance i've built up. perhaps it's because i have this nagging emptiness in me that i can never seem to fill and all i really am doing is recreating whatever moment that perpetually damaged me by disappearing without warning.
try as i might, in relationships that i try to go back to, i can never recapture the spark that made our companionship consequential. i've perhaps gotten way too good at goodbyes that there's no returning when i've called it quits.
i've come to terms, that no amount of endearment ensures anything.
there won't be any modesty here. i work very hard to make a mark in the life stories of the people i get in touch with. but just like a fire that bursts intensely, i don't have a lot of longevity. i'm not one to overstay my welcome, as soon as i feel i'm about to run out of purpose, i simply unceremoniously leave the relationships i once held dearly.
i just have a perversion for goodbyes. i like my temporariness despite the significance i've built up. perhaps it's because i have this nagging emptiness in me that i can never seem to fill and all i really am doing is recreating whatever moment that perpetually damaged me by disappearing without warning.
try as i might, in relationships that i try to go back to, i can never recapture the spark that made our companionship consequential. i've perhaps gotten way too good at goodbyes that there's no returning when i've called it quits.
i've come to terms, that no amount of endearment ensures anything.
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