just your nose, just.

i made a mistake again, just like i always do. predictable mirannda.
mirannda, the fuck up.
who would do something that stupid? mirannda.
i bent my values until they could no longer bend, i hid my morals under the floor boards and forgot they were there. searching frantically for a way out but every window was boarded up and behind each new door was another brick wall.
left or right?
you left, was that right?

i hurt myself a lot, and i think in the process i hurt others. then i find myself more hurt because i was the cause of others pain. this circle logic keeps me running until my legs start to wither away. even after my legs were broken, i kept running. i made a metaphor once, that i had run straight into a wall and broken both my legs. a good friend of mine told me to stay down, to let my legs heal, to be sure before walking again. i listened to him but i didn't weigh the importance of my recovery. i figured after a while they would be fine, i could walk. slowly. i just wouldn't run anywhere.
note to self and note to world: you can not walk on broken legs.
and those people who cheered me on, believed in me, i'm so sorry i've fallen. you never wanted to see me on the ground again. but they are broken.
but this time the bones aren't lined up, they may never heal straight. for some reason the last thing i will do is see a doctor. i'd rather be deformed then have him touch my legs.

i have a claddagh ring. i fiddle with it a lot.