Tried to hide the fifteen hours of inaudible crying. Walking away from mad insensitive people.
Vulnerable. Ripped open. Fresh wounds glistening with unwept tears. Your mad insensitive eyes.
You’re an indifferent tortured soul in a victimization drama. Spit fire at me!
Leave me. Leave me. Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me. Leave me. Leave me.
Who should be saying this?
A reconciliation falls apart. There. It crumbles. Twenty reassurances and dreams wilt with it, irrevocably. And you sit over the grave staring into space, as if oblivion is the most obvious thing.
And I gulp down my pain and hold my tears back without brimming out of my eyes.
Because the shoe of your indifference will walk over my little ant pain and not even know it.
You walk into the museum of my exagerrated, obsessive compulsive, paranoid, surreal, imaginative, creative, confused, repressed beliefs and thoughts. And you casually push something down and walk over it. And you find it to be amazing entertainment. Because this museum just watches with its quiet, ancient eyes and does not complain while it dies.
You are now one of “them”. Don’t apologize. They don’t. Do the hurting well. More people will evolve. Like I am.
Ironically, I am here to be “ignored”. If you desperately want to ignore someone, you can think of me and then ignore me. I will not complain. Sometimes everybody needs the luxury of ignoring someone else. Sometimes everyone needs the comfort of not being the “ignored”.
And I also give you the special pleasure of hearing my rants and raves. I don’t take it easy. I hurt. But you can hurt me. When you grow out of your childish ways, walk far away from me and think about what happened. And don’t come back.