SEVENTY FIVE29.11.2022
i reminisce about how we used to talk for hours and hours, for eternities, for days, every night, for months. where does all this stuff go? do you remember that? i wonder if you do, if you miss that, if you feel that way with someone else now, if you sit around and talk to someone else. it's so hard to trust anyone. i feel like i am always on the outside, looking into things, always on the edge of things, never really fitting in, and it is getting worse now, people from the past, people i used to trust and believe in raise panic inside me, people have put me through so much, i am no one important to anyone from my new life. if i am not here, no one is going to notice. my presence doesn't really matter so much, neither does my voice, sometimes. i feel lost, always. disposable. is that just all of my imagination? my throat has been hurting all week, i am not sure if it's the cold, the yelling or the mental, emotional disturbance from that night. i thought about calling you that night, like i always do when i am trapped, when i am cornered. i knew you would pick up, even if you didn’t, it would be enough, somehow, the act. i thought about calling you a million times that night. wonder if you would've picked up. it always comes back to this. we used to confide in each other, when i left, when you were stuck, when that thing ended, when i wanted to come back, when everything was perfect. what i want to say is that i am losing sight of things, slowly but surely, my brain feels like it is collapsing and i am exhausted and all i want to do i hear your voice again.
i reminisce about how we used to talk for hours and hours, for eternities, for days, every night, for months. where does all this stuff go? do you remember that? i wonder if you do, if you miss that, if you feel that way with someone else now, if you sit around and talk to someone else. it's so hard to trust anyone. i feel like i am always on the outside, looking into things, always on the edge of things, never really fitting in, and it is getting worse now, people from the past, people i used to trust and believe in raise panic inside me, people have put me through so much, i am no one important to anyone from my new life. if i am not here, no one is going to notice. my presence doesn't really matter so much, neither does my voice, sometimes. i feel lost, always. disposable. is that just all of my imagination? my throat has been hurting all week, i am not sure if it's the cold, the yelling or the mental, emotional disturbance from that night. i thought about calling you that night, like i always do when i am trapped, when i am cornered. i knew you would pick up, even if you didn’t, it would be enough, somehow, the act. i thought about calling you a million times that night. wonder if you would've picked up. it always comes back to this. we used to confide in each other, when i left, when you were stuck, when that thing ended, when i wanted to come back, when everything was perfect. what i want to say is that i am losing sight of things, slowly but surely, my brain feels like it is collapsing and i am exhausted and all i want to do i hear your voice again.