Incredible Madness

Original Poetry

We repeatedly fall for them,
Then,
Embarrassed,
We pick ourselves off from the ground
Where we collapsed at their feet
And we dust ourselves off
Only to fall once again.
It hurts more and more each time,
Until the bruises transform to scars
From the same mistakes
We relentlessly make.
But that’s the beauty of it.
It’s fucking madness.
And it’s incredible.

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