𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 ᵖᵒᵉᵗʳʸ

nothing

these walls i have built

are made of illusions.

woven with lies and fake smiles

i'm not safe or happy.

i'm lost and alone.

thin as paper.

fragile as a broken glass.

my blood

covering the carpet

like wine

on your once white shirt.

a small inconvenience

that means nothing to you.

just like

how

i mean nothing to you.