Life explodes alittle everytime I breath. It is as if it can croumble with my lungs alone, not others. They know what some words can do to people, how it can make their day or destroy their week. I don't seam to have the same undertsanding of them, of people. I don't see the cracks I'v made befor its to late, befor my words have reached in an punched it.
I feelt it.
Every one of my punches.
Everytime they reflect in their eyes and make me realise to late, what I have done.
Why do I do this.
I should be tongueless, voiceless, handless, lipless.
I should be nothing in its entirety and disapear into the oblivion of silence.
I am nothing more.
Just there, existing against my will as they carry on with their conversation.
My missing voice the only difference.
