*** It

i'm not going to ask for anything.
i don't want your love or your hand to hold,
i don't want your comfort. i don't need your
reassurance either. fuck it.

i'm glad that you care,
but the fact is it isn't going to change any time soon.
i'll just sit under my rock and wait. in the mean time i'll
offer my emotional well being on a plate and wait for someone
to feast on the remains.

i want the life sucked out of me, and there
are some days where i wish i could mute the world. i am not so lucky
though because i still hear it all. i still hear all of the crying, yelling, and fighting.

fuck it.

i will just take it with a smile because there is a bright side to every
stupid day.

i just have to think about my escape route and it helps me sleep at night.

if you really knew me: you would know that i do not tell anyone in my family how i'm
feeling. my pain isn't real enough. my frustration isn't relevant. fuck it. i'm not relevant either.
i'm just a shadow passing through the house to sleep, breathe, and interact with practiced patience.

i can't shout from rooftops. i can't shout from my bedroom. i can't let it out, so i let it go until it comes back in the form of a bundle under the blankets.

you still have something to live for. you always will until we dissapear.