streetlights glistening on the soaked street, as you find yourself caught in the middle of black and white record, streams of chords playing out, carrying a sort of melancholy with a quaint stroke of affection. words capturing only the surface of things, and not the undercurrent of thoughts that run beneath.
so many things, over and over. the horrible feeling that i get when all i can do is look away, ashamed. her words etched into my mind. surely, all of my regrets are nothing new. but if i told you all this, will you ever be able to understand this feeling inside of me?
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