THIS FEELING

The thing I hate most is crying, which attacks you when you least expect it. You’re there doing something and suddenly your eyes are shiny again, what the hell, and you don’t understand how it happened. And the last thing you want is for someone to notice, because a second later they come to cuddle and chirp, and they want me to talk, and I’m really not into it. I close in on myself. I often get nervous and I take it out on myself a lot, because if my heart is shattered in one way or another it is also my fault. Thoughts crowd into your head, questions pile up, how do you try to answer one, no ten more pop up, it’s terribly hot, you can’t sleep, you are hoping for something unexpected but that won’t happen, as he opened his mouth to say one something, maybe even joking, all ready to judge and reproach you as soon as they have the opportunity, is a chain that will never end and that no one is able to break it. they are said and and tries to get by with the judgment of others. There would be so many more things to say but it would hurt both me and you too much.
I thought about leaving. Not to say anything to anyone, go to the station and take the first train. Escape without a trace, abandon everything and everyone. I wasn’t going to tell anyone where I was going, not even my mother. They would never find me again. I had a best friend of those who from one moment to the next they find themselves sharing everything, of those who then, growing up, at any moment disappear and you ask yourself: “Why?”. And she told me to stay good, she told me that there were no more people like me. But he was corrupt and felt dirty. Then I had little kittens as friends, and there were four of them like the Musketeers but I didn’t call them after them. Then one of them died, Trinity, strangled by a rope taken by the dog to play. The great walnut welcomed his sweet little soul. I will not forget msi her little mouse face. She was too young to die. I too was too young to die but he killed me anyway.
– Mom, I’m going out. -At this time? It’s three o’clock, where you think you’re going. – Don’t worry, I’m going to a friend’s house. Put something on, take your headphones and close the door. And where are you going now? You don’t know it, yet you walk aimlessly. Play the first song, bright eyes. Put the second, a tear. The third, you need to sit down, because standing up you can’t stand. And it hurts so bad, it destroys. Yet no one sees it, no one hears it, only you. Such a devastating thing for you, but indifferent to others. You get up, walk a bit. The tears are gone now, or so you think. A thousand thoughts go through your head. You look at the phone, no text, no call. Nobody cares about you, where you are from, if you are okay, despite everything. Nothing. You’re looking for a place to go, but you really just want a couple of arms to stay between. But you are alone, alone and devastated.

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