** Two Hundred and Seven **
i close my eyes. wishing time would go by. hoping i'd be given another try. to work out the things that made me cry. those endless trickling tears that make my eyes dry. slowly everything was left to fry. HELP ME. i wrote repeatedly. quietly printing them again and again. i have shut the world from mine. it feel as if all time has stopped. but as i peer away from the blue tip on this empty lines of this piece of paper, my limbo disappears.
all that rings in my ears are the same tune i had since last night. oh how the words spoke of things i only wished i could do. then the music has a little marry-go-roundish tune to it that reminds me of how i am still the same old kid i was back then. although now, i have metamorphosized to a different exterior. i let it ring. again and again. until there is no need to shut the world for me to hear it. until it has become part of my world.
i feel the unusual warmth in this hand. the same hand that held everything i had. the same hand that let it all go. and now no matter how much i reach out for it, though within my grasps, i can never hope to reach. i wrote those words again. HELP ME. my way of crying out to the world knowing how pointless it would be to scream at the top of my lungs til they'd explode and hope that it touches someone's hearing at the other end of this vast universe.
because nobody would come.
because nobody would care.
everyone else is too busy with their own little petty problems to stop and take a glance at the world and see how lucky they are.
because nobody cares.
all that rings in my ears are the same tune i had since last night. oh how the words spoke of things i only wished i could do. then the music has a little marry-go-roundish tune to it that reminds me of how i am still the same old kid i was back then. although now, i have metamorphosized to a different exterior. i let it ring. again and again. until there is no need to shut the world for me to hear it. until it has become part of my world.
i feel the unusual warmth in this hand. the same hand that held everything i had. the same hand that let it all go. and now no matter how much i reach out for it, though within my grasps, i can never hope to reach. i wrote those words again. HELP ME. my way of crying out to the world knowing how pointless it would be to scream at the top of my lungs til they'd explode and hope that it touches someone's hearing at the other end of this vast universe.
because nobody would come.
because nobody would care.
everyone else is too busy with their own little petty problems to stop and take a glance at the world and see how lucky they are.
because nobody cares.
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