I fucked up.
All I do is fuck up.
It’s a never ending story
of how perfectly, imperfectly I am
but so desperately wrong.
I’m always apologizing,
I must always be at fault.
I am human and I try.
I make mistakes and I fall.
Yet, with you I am a walking disaster.
From cloud nine and cherished moments,
to misconception and spiteful words.
Moments like this is a reminder,
that everything, like my happiness is temporary.
All I do is fuck up and apologize,
and my own self is beginning to think
I too, am truly not good enough.