Here I go again...

Geez another move, I've moved so many times I've lost count. I'm finding it hard to pack. I've come across old love letters and Nikki's clothes. Why do I hold onto this stuff? Ealier I burned my roughdrafts of a Valentines poem I'd written for her. But when it comes that which she's given me, I can't do it. Instead I reread and have my pity party of tears thinking about where I went wrong, what could I've done to make us work. And it probably doesn't help that I'm listening to Rest in Pieces by Saliva.







I feel dead inside my heart.

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