A little bit dead

A Note

Do you see me?

Do you see me?

Do you see me?

Do you see me?

I can see you.

I hear you, I hear your voices mixing together in one big pot that spills over and creates an ocean of sorrow, and it laughs, the ocean of voices mocks me for standing by the shore, for if I were to plunge into the water, I'd be burned by the inferno of anger, but to stand on the shore is to not live, it is to not understand pain, so I jump into the ocean, and I drown over and over again, I'm ruthlessly pulled deeper and deeper under, but I'm alive, I needed to know if I was alive, I was alive, I was alive.

And I saw you.

Did you see me?

Your voices so jumbled, it all sounded like one big ocean of hate, but every drop was a secret, a different reason explaining why all of you were so rude, so reckless, so out of control.

Could you see mine?

Mine was so salty from tears, so bitter from confinement, so plastic from putting on my mask.

I heard you.

Maybe if I hadn't heard, I wouldn't have jumped in.

I saw you.

I wish I could forget.

I know you.