I look into our past conversations,
And I feel like suffocating.
I wish I knew before, that the worst enemy
You can ever encounter
Is yourself. Your mind. Your eyes.
You play tricks on yourself.
And others get blamed for your blindness or your own manipulation to yourself.
And everyone suffers.
You tell yourself a story to justify your rage,
Your hurt, your feelings of betrayal,
When barely anything of that story is true.
The facts have been twisted for your own liking.
I look into our past conversations,
And I find my side of the story of how things went between us invalid and unclear.