you’ve got your feet buried in the sand, and they wonder when you’ll let them run free.  but they don’t talk, so you guess they must not really care.  they’re your feet afterall.  not important in the scheme of things.

i feel like your feet.

i’m stuck. i’ve got nothing. i’ve got no go ahead. i’ve got no good memories. i am alone. and how i hate you for taking away the one good thing i’ve got going on. how i blame you for my own actions. how i wish i never met you. i am nothing because i wanted something that wasn’t put there for me to take.

it felt good to be adored.
it was hard to hear, “i’m sorry.”
it is freedom not to choose.

i must be a fool.
but at least i’m an honest fool.