My Fault
My Fault
I was fairly certain
That this would all make sense,
A year after, without calls
Months sulking by
With only thoughts
Of desperate hope.
The eagerness of it
A mistake,
The notion of us
Unreliable now.
And its funny how you
Were a giant in my mind
But proved
Much less
My fault for the grandeur.
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You’re currently reading “My Fault,” an entry on S. Minor Creatively
- Published:
- November 29, 2011 / 5:51 pm
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