I live each day trying to mute my sorrows out with music and writing paragraphs and poems filled with unsaid apologies and clandestine love confessions. I wake up each day with a heaviness in my chest even though it feels both empty and hollow. There are metaphors in my ribcage though and sometimes they sing to the rhythm of my heartbeats.
I wonder if people forget about me just as much as I remember them, if I’m worth less when I think they’re worth so much more. I wonder if I’m surrounded by fake smiles and forced companionship until I remember that the person who always brings me down is no one but myself for paranoia has always been a constant in my sorry excuse of a life.
I wonder why people change with the seasons and if certain things do happen for certain reasons, then what are those reasons? I cannot simply look up at the sky and ask for some enlightenment because more often than not, the just looks back at you - a bit sorry, a lot apathetic.