Categories > Original > Fantasy
Still
0 ReviewsIt isn't fantasy. It is how some people feel.
Passing the time like a ticking clock. You tire of it, but you can't stop.
I don't care, not any more.
What is the point of caring? Other people I know care about me, but that just seemed to hurt them.
So manipulative, So possessive is to care.
“There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.”
that sums it up.
They want everything to go back to normal, my conscience is trying to resist what other people want. What is all this?
People ringing. This persistent monotonous ring.
You ask, do I pick up? Why would I?
So they could complain and persuade, hoping I will do something. Maybe they are right.
Maybe I could find my own euphoria.
But for now, I will weep.
I don't care, not any more.
What is the point of caring? Other people I know care about me, but that just seemed to hurt them.
So manipulative, So possessive is to care.
“There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.”
that sums it up.
They want everything to go back to normal, my conscience is trying to resist what other people want. What is all this?
People ringing. This persistent monotonous ring.
You ask, do I pick up? Why would I?
So they could complain and persuade, hoping I will do something. Maybe they are right.
Maybe I could find my own euphoria.
But for now, I will weep.
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