writer in the window

Old ghosts haunting me tonight,
and all of a sudden

this blog turns into my high school journal.

I swear,

no matter how much you think you've changed,

you haven't.

And I know none of these sentiments are original

or unique.

Everyone has gone through something like this.

And I feel like one in a billion of tiny shattered pieces

who are haunted by someone they want

and can't have.

And shouldn't have.

And is not meant for them.

 I hate this feeling.

And I hate that I think it and feel it

all the time.