Spite

I wonder if your lies eat away at you. They’re always the worst at night. When you’re in between the place of sleep and consciousness, I wonder if it kills you. Did you ever confess? Or do you let your sins boil deep down in a place that you have secured. You’ve made sure you don’t care, and you don’t care enough that you convince yourself that you did no wrong. Night is when I imagine reflective thinking to be at its peek. With your thoughts and memories replaying like a bad movie that’s stuck on repeat. The same scene will be vivid as anything, replaying again and again until its static. You know that terrible sound the T.V would make when you were little and you’d cover your ears until it stopped. You’re not little anymore, you can cover your ears, but you can never cover what your eyes have seen and what your hands have done.

Spite

riss2345

Joined March 2010

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