"How do you write so beautiful creative lines? The things you write, i can actually feel them. Trust me you build homes for long lost nomads, and decorate them so gracefully with your words.",someone said.

Listening to him she sighed, this wasn't any sigh of relieve but a sigh of anxiety and Frustration building up in her mind, but she chose to remain calm. She took a deep breath, a breath of disappointment and sadness.
She looked up to him.

"You know what people have fears and so do I. Some are afraid of clowns, some of spiders or heights. While some fear the dark. But I, I fear people feeling the as same i do. Every time i miss him, i feel my lungs burning empty, my heart hitting the chest so hard that it would break my ribs and rip apart my skin. There's a void in my head, a hollow black hole reaching deep inside my soul, slowly swallowing all my hopes and dreams. And no matters if its 3:00 in the noon, or 3:00 am, i feel the same, i feel a vacuum enduring my happiness, and I, I feel nothingness.
I question myself sitting in my room "where I'm?". On getting no answer i slender my fingers pressed into the skin of my forehead. I take on a sharp razor to slit my skin, drawing beads of blood. I try to calm myself, but soon the anxiety turns up into panic. And i get lost." she paused and sighed fighting back her tears.

"you can't feel me, you're barely aware of the words i write, you haven't faced my demons yet. And i wish you never will." she said.
Just when she was about to give up and cry, she relaxed and smilingly lit up her face to a person she truly never was and will never be.