ramblings, semi-coherent mutterings from a tired teenager who's just exhausted from living at this pointMature

sometimes there are days

where i haven't done anything wrong. 

they are rare and far between, 
but they are there, 
i promise you. 

and inevitably at the end of them, 
i will sink to the ground
and sob my apologies into the floorboards

because sometimes i don't do anything wrong, 
but everything goes bad anyways, 
the world drips down in thickness 
stale liquid seeping black into the paint underneath my fingers
and chipping away at everything i wanted 

i didn't-
didn't mess up, fuck up, 
drink my blood like a phantom taste
like a wine i've given up
but can still feel sticking to the back of my throat

i thought i did, 
for a moment, 
just a moment

but i didn't do anything wrong - 
sometimes the bad days just go bad

and even i cannot figure out why

one bad apple in the bunch 
and i have not left them out in the sun to rot
so why they have
has yet escaped me

i promise, 
i promise, 
i promise it was not my fault

for once it was not my fucking fault, 
but everything still somehow goes wrong anyways.

The End

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