Short Stories?

Doubts

I feel like everything I've written is a poem...

--

I watch from above a tree. Under the dark depths of water. I watch everyone cry, smile, shout yell.

There are times were they have asked "me" and talk to "me".

Sure "I" have emotions. I feel sad, happy, angry, tired. I am no god after all.

The emotions that leak out are only a minimum. 

My smiles are temporary. My joy fades.

I don't care about these emotions anymore, but all I ask is... Why? Why are you hurting me?

You bring me envy and yet, you bring me joy that lasts forever. So, why must you hurt me?

Am I not good enough? Am I too boring?

At this point, their voices make me doubt us. Are we meant to fall apart? Is this just fairy tale? 

Why? Why have you ignored me? You say that you have forgotten or the network has become glitchy but... 

Why? Why do I feel like I'm starting to believe that it's a lie? But I am no different.

I have lied to the world. I am fine. I've slipped out through my writing, through my creations.

But I have lied. To you. To everyone.

Eat lie that I swallow becomes easier, sliding down my throat without trouble. 

But to speak the truth of the beings that dwell around me, clogs up my throat. No longer can I breathe. I feel almost forgotten. I have cried, and cried, and cried for you, but you barely respond.

Though I am in pain, all I ask, all I ask is...

Please, don't forget about me. Don't ignore my existence.

Even...Even if I doubt you. 

Please, don't forget me.

Because, you're one of the few strings that I cling onto for life.

Please don't cut the thinning string.

Please...

Even if I doubt you, please.

Don't let go.

If we spilt up, that's fine.

Just please.

Never let me go.