Too much to think about. Too much time. Too late to write coherently. Too many moments remembered and missed.
Too many rules for myself that I’m all too willing to bend if bending them will get me what I want but shouldn’t have. Too many songs coupled with too many dances that still leave thoughts twirling in my head.
Too many decisions that I wish I could change that were never mine to make. Too long making a priority of those to whom I am an option. Too many nights with to now be without.
Too many twinges of the heart and of guilt from too many messages read too carefully. Too many small dreams put on hold in hopes of the bigger one coming true. Too many years of faded lipstick, fallen curls, and being taken for granted.
Too many disappointments in word, action, deed, and lack there of. Too much, but never enough to get to hate or fuel full-fledged anger.
