of the best and worst things.I often run to new surroundings
tricking myself into believing that I won't hurt again.
But the past comes back.
Comes to the forefront.
You were never gone and I've not forgot.
I refuse to think that I dwell there,
in the past,
but who can help it when their mind just won't stop screaming, "WHAT IF? WHAT IF?!"
I can't escape my thoughts.
Whether they are beating me over the head or slinking in unnoticed,
they always get the best of me.
Restraining the rest of me.
Is this my destiny?
To constantly find myself stock-still
because the intuition of my cognition is stuck on an earlier edition?
God, rescue me.
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