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{"You continuously threaten me that I’ll eventually die alone, though it’s a pang against my heart I hear none of it though ferociously, the insides of me are hurricanes. 
Reservoir myself, I live alone to die alone, or I am alienated from all reservoirs, or I’m alienated and a social havoc, not a butterfly, people whom are fed up of my sacrifices,
I apply compress against their wounds and inhale the intoxicants of their radiant energy, infections it may lead to, even though nobody would apply sympathetic pressure to mine and I’ll die alone, I’ll spend all of my life alone, they threaten me with it and feverish of the idea, 
I become distorted immediately as those words escape their mouths, their jaws open, their eyes narrowing in my direction, just mere slits from a distance though I see the loathing behind the facade that they love me, they are affectionate, they care about the coffee that belongs to them in which I take gulps upon, they seize every moment to critique my appearance, they spend their times summing me up in how much worthy I am.
And obnoxiously ironic, I scream that I’m not worth anything, I give them what they have wanted this entire time.
I don’t deserve anybody's love, their hearts, their souls, the soles of my feet press against the tiles, bare and shivering against the chill hostility against me, despite me. I have articulated and drawn upon the lines. I witness and speculate that their announcing my mere presence is always and will remain abnormal, that they bury me seven feet under upon the rows of the market whilst I grab appetizers as
My eyes take in people laughing along with their loved ones, and I feel indulged and intimidated as they laugh at my tense and lack of understanding to what they giggle on about behind my back, underneath the stars is us all. Though I’m undeserving of devotion and love as if the curse of my parents’ has constantly been etched against my background, the curse of their words I have acquired will forever remain as if etched across my forehead as a reminder of how inadequate I could get, just as the dew drops in a frosty night on my boulevard that plasters onto my shivering skin as my fate and destiny resolutes it to be. 
My lips quivering, my heart staggering, my head looming towards the ground, the imprints remaining on the concrete, their giggles filling my eardrums.  
They remind me of the coffee they had purchased for me previously. I mutter a low nod of gratitude, etching a smile to my face, and make my way to the bus as I pass multiple groups of friends with groceries in their hands, maintaining their balance in the cause of each other. 
My heart throbs at the longing, my back stiff in no moral support to the dark clouds grazing above my head, gracing me with their presence. I jam myself into one of the side hemispheres of the bus or the train. My memory subconsciously distorts and fogs any idea of where I am headed, and the curse of it prances along the path leading up to my old neighborhood. 
The banging voice never stilling, permanently jamming against my cranium, there to give me migraines, there to etch me across reality, the reality of my worth, to question myself, to hide back the truth of my parents' words. And though it still etches across my heart as throbs and stabs of the darkness, of the irony of my parents' words, taunting me, whiplashing against my face,
No matter how you have given until you had nothing else left behind, bits and pieces and parts and particles of your heart, only for the world to slap you hard enough as a wake-up call for yourself and with scratches against your blemishing neck and blood sprawling against your wrists, 
That I’ll eventually live to die alone, all of it my fault alone because,
I’m unable to get it,
out of my head, 
The sole idea of it
Haunts me 
In every step of the way."
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