my own audience
i am trying to be quiet. to be still. i am sadly, i am madly, i am ...
not right for the part. i am impatient. i am forgiving. i cannot remember how to relate, i never learned how.
small thoughts. i would rather be silent, and invisible. i have survived being my own audience. craving more than autonomy.
it finally occurred to me, no one was there to teach me, that it's easy to pawn your flesh, easy to gather interest, to crash and pray. so very easy
to know this, and to swear those ghosts to haunt me no more. when there exists a chance to be alone with someone that would give every sunrise, every single one.
that sounds simple. that's because it is. we cant survive this world alone. and yet, there is no other way to live.
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