NUMB

one hundred seventeen

I've been wanting to write something, really. Even though we mean nothing to each other now...I still see you.

I see that you are not you anymore, and because of that fact, I feel worried.

I can almost see your shards on the floor when you move. Unlike me, when you are weighed down by your demons, nobody notices. Nobody sees the way your eyes glass. Nobody notices the cracks in your expressions. Nobody can see past the facade you've built on yourself and that you're slowly dying under that mask.

You are alone this time.

You've began isolating yourself from the world again.