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paige b.

Sorry.

I’m sorry I never told you
About why I was so nervous around you.
I’m sorry I never confessed
Because you moved on,
And I didn’t.
I’m sorry I never got to love you
Or hold on tight when you were scared.
I’m sorry if I ever disappointed you.
I’m sorry, so sorry.
Sometimes sorry isn’t enough
And I want to go back,
Tell you how I felt.
But I was afraid,
And now you’ve moved on.

I waited too long, but you still have a chance. You go find your love before they move on too.

Autres oeuvres par paige b....
Why do we all stand here, when the world is burning around us?

I stand at the door What am I waiting for? A whisper or a breath To tell me to carry on? Carry on, carry on.
Definite

And we were always running never to but always from and always running... And we were always hurting never for but always from
Us

We have tendencies to be self destructive and it was only ever our fault, yours and mine and we were never okay.
Resentment

Maybe I resent it because I know that since it meant so much it hurts so much more. And maybe I resent the fact
Untitled #3

Words are just words They say But if they’re “just words,” Why do they hurt so much more When they tell the truth?
Untitled

Something warm has curled up inside my chest. It is filled with hate, with sadness, with things I cannot express.
Hiraeth

There are words that I was mistaken to say. There was one time when we were strangers,
I tried to keep it safe, but it broke anyways

My heart Is a glass ball Delicate Awaiting somebody Who will cradle it gently
Not Sempiternal

We used to have the same lunch, didn’t we? We used to laugh at the same jokes… wouldn’t we? We were woven from the same fabric
Afterwards

It is the emptiness, the nothingness, the in-between. Is it broken? Is it maimed?
Walking on Eggshells

Empty eggshells Line the floor And you can’t walk across Or get to the door. You can’t reach your shoes,
I don’t know what is real anymore.

I fear That now There is no real me. I wear a mask of personality And pretend I’m happy.
 1
Maybe

All I have to say Is I am incomplete A story left unwritten A page left unturned But that does not matter
Dear Dad:

Hi Dad. I’d like you to know I’m finally Unboxing each memory Framed
Hope

Something is dying, Quivering on the edge Of my soul. It is shaking Swaying in the lightest breeze



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