"I'm sick of pretending that you're not killing me. That I don't feel the ghost of your lips lingering on my skin. I'm sick of wearing you like a cologne and trying to cover you up with my coffee and my cigarette breaks. And I'm tired of pretending like I don't see you on the streets. Always calling out to me, telling me you are home. Telling me you are safety and comfort and a bed not made of ice.
I'm sick of not being able to sleep anymore. Pretending that I'm not scared to close my eyes because I might not open them again. That I might not want to."
-Nathaniel MarkHim (-V)
/If sadness was a person, what would you say?