Whispers In Minor

i can’t sleep. my mind is racing all over the place. you ever find yourself in spaces and places with people you question even really love you? i constantly find myself revisiting the shadows of fragmented memories, anxiously trying to put puzzles together to see the full picture — but i’m always missing the most vital pieces. i hear their words but they fall on numb ears. the i love yous sound like echoes of ghosts from my history’s past. he loves me, he loves me not. picking petals from withered flowers hoping they reveal cosmic answers to questions i don’t even know to ask. and if i did, i probably wouldn’t want the answers anyway. afraid they might reveal what i already fear to be true. but what if it isn’t a question of whether or not he really loves me? what if the real question is do i love him? and the answer… may be what i’m really running from. because i may love the ifs and maybes, the hopefullys and one days — but yesterday and today? not so much.

i just came to be.