We're trying to draw scars on ourselves. If I reach out my hand to you, what used to be me will become a part of you. In all honesty, I'll be willing to do that. If you let me.
Instead of taking scars from bullets and blades, we take each other's hand. We draw circles on each other's palm. With intertwined fingers, we're struggling to paint the night sky in a darker shade of black.
Without us realizing, our lives have intertwined and we can't find the twisted bowknots. We can't untangle ourselves and we can't escape each other. The moment I realize I define you, you define me. We are a story of chained irregularities.
Yesterday becomes today. Today will be tomorrow. I have nothing to say against what brings our sorrow.
My yesterday will be your tomorrow. What I go through, you will follow.
Why do we repeat the same old day? Do we ever share the same today?
The hate is late on me.
Realizations are nightmare. Visions are torture. You're dripping like saturated moonlight. I'm tripping myself in guilt.
YOU ARE READING
Exhaustion: The 7th Sense
Ficción GeneralYou are my sixth sense. We become my seventh sense. {a short fiction inspired by NCT U - 7th Sense and NCT U - Without You, on how I perceive general anxiety and social anxiety}
