Don't contact me.
Don't let me know you're thinking about it.
I know you're thinking about it.
Words are too empty. I'm done with words. With wishes that life was what it's not. With not really being one of your priorities. I'm done with being an afterthought, an imaginary impossible alternative.
I'm actually real, you know.
Do you know?
But I suppose I don't matter that much, in reality.
And I suppose it's ok.
The moment has passed
Please don't reach out.
Are you really going to stay silent?
