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Reaching To You

I never expected more of you than you expect of yourself.
But parallel lines can meet.
Maybe it is better to get away from it all.
Who says that anyone else’s thoughts are important?
Are they not just overwhelming?
It’s not their life, but yours.
I can’t see.
I am caught up in tiny webs.
My eyes see only the right in front of me’s.
You are destined for so much more.
Maybe our paths are parallel.
Though I know how it is, to open up, to give even the tiniest bit of yourself, hoping for understanding. Hoping they will see what you have been hiding. And they don’t. And you close off, because you were right not to. It was illogical to. Because of course it won’t work out. But you trusted, trust they would. And they didn’t.
How horrible it is to be right.
Because even though the people who listen to their hearts are stupid, it’s better to be stupid.
Better to alive, and feeling everything to the extremes.
To feel everything.
Feel everything.
Everything.
How else are you real?
How else are you human?
Though we deny allegiance to these monsters, we are them.
The doors can be closed, but they shouldn’t be locked.
If someone’s willing to try, why not let them?
You give the power to hurt you but you trust them not to.
Guess what? They’re going to. They will hurt you the most.
But it’s worth it.
Better to be alive with hurt and pain and anger than be emotionless, detached.
Humans are meant to feel, not simply to think.
Flirt with fantasy but come home to reality.
See that distractions are only that, that they will never be enough.
Scared of confrontations we are, aren’t we?
Hares hiding behind bushes.
Life is color, if painted.
You push yourself too much, and you push everyone else away.
I don’t mind, darling, I do the same.
I am simply left surprised that my words have mattered for you to write even this.





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