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To anyone who’s ever felt they didn’t deserve to be seen.
When you stop fighting the current that keeps dragging you under. When you finally cave and let it take you. When you accept taking the grim reaper’s hand.
It’s perfect because in the darkness, I easily blend in. Though it really doesn’t matter. Even in the daytime, I’m nobody to everyone.
Words, that’s all they are. Meaningless and insignificant; anyone can say them and make you feel special.
“You can’t miss someone you don’t know,” I angrily snap. “Then let me know you,” he counters determinedly. “I want to know you.”
I hope I’m enough to anchor her, enough she can feel and understand that I’ll be her lifeline.
So many have called me empathetic, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but I’ve been screwed over by it.
Night and day are one, and I feel chained to the middle, not being able to experience either but watching them regardless.
It feels like I’m sitting in front of a television, watching my life play out. It’s all slow, excruciatingly so, but everyone and everything around me are all moving too fast. I can’t keep up.
I thought getting out of bed was tiring, but forcing a smile completely wears me out.
when her eyes collide with mine, I’m struck by how little I see and how much I feel.
“Your favorite color is yellow, but you don’t like neon yellow.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” she hollowly whispers. “That means everything,”
“I want to meet the person who over inflated your ego. I need a word or two with them.”
And I want to meet the person who fucked her over. I’ll have more than words with them.