I'm filled with regrets.
At the brim of my head, an ocean so deep yet you can keep filling it with more puddles and spills of thoughts I can't accept.
Pretend it's no threat.
How does this make sense?
Maybe if I changed this or that,
done something different than what I did,
said something other than what I said,
I wouldn't be so engulfed in my own head.
Mistakes are too easy to make,
to create,
it feels like I manifest each one,
as though I subconsciously enjoy how it tears through me,
suffocating me and limiting the air flow to my brain.
I walk in circles till I fall,
over and over again.
I wish I could clear my vision,
I wish it was simple to walk in a straight line as I stand on steady feet,
my path much more vivid than this.
I wish I could drain my head every now and again, watch my thoughts spill through the crevices of my lips,
but for some reason I won't let myself break the seals I've kept.
I keep pushing everything and everyone away,
and we have my headache to thank.
