At least I still remember my lines from the last time

Ugh.
Ugh.
Ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh.

My stomach is a congealed clump of guilt. Butter that melted, but is starting to solidify again. It's coating my throat too.

It's easiest to make the same mistakes again and again, because it's safe. I already know my lines and I already know how the script ends. (with regret, and guilt for the silly stupid tears)

When people ask me about my life, I like to pull out my three-page resume of Mistakes, and show them off "Look how much I've learned!" I grin, "Look how much I've lived!".
Probably though, I'm making the same mistakes again, as we speak. 

"A year ago it wouldn't have been alright"

I can't I can't i can't i cant i cant icant icanticanticanticanticanticanticanticanticanticant

But I can't stop thinking about you, and it's ruining everything.

Splashing in the pool always seemed like fun, but then you start to choke, and then you're in over your head, and then you realize that it's not a game.

There's still monday.
Maybe I just need a good london fog.
And a deep breath. (And a hug?) 

(I'm sorry if I copied you, and accidently ruined it)