Always swaying on the hedgelines,
My mind is unsure,
Constant in its change.
Rethinking through every decision,
Every stubborn desire
Seems childish in hindsight,
Every thoughtout decision,
Rash, impulsive,
The burning passion that drove me,
I lost myself in a moment
Of whirlwind decisions,
Choosing to go with the flow,
When I should have stayed
Strong against the current,
As I always have stood.
But what came over me this once,
I’ll never know now.
And though this will wound your heart
As sure as mine is wounded,
This is what is right for us,
This is what is right,
Or so I would like to make myself believe.

-A (@firstdraftpoet on twitter)


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