It’s interesting how easily you can allow yourself to fade without a single person noticing.
They tell you, “Oh I love you!” one minute.
The next the only voices you hear are the whispering giggles of the ghosts all around you.
"I know when I’ll go," I tell them.
Their giggles increase as they circle the room.
"Oh? Do you now?" they mock.
"November 5th," I spit into the familiar darkness.
Their mocking increases.
They don’t trust that I’ll go through with it.
That I will honestly throw my soul from it’s cursed shell and allow them to devour it’s remains.
They think I’m too scared of where I’ll end up after I die.
Why should I be?
If I’m anywhere but here I’ll be content.