I found my apology link to Sinclair. Thank you! He loves this stuff.
Sometimes I feel like the world will collapse over me. Like I owe it something, but I don’t know what. I keep myself safe by saying little. Little of what is stinging me. I swallow it so as not to intrude on the happiness living out there, loudly, hurtfully. I don’t want to be that person that sings her tears out loud. I don’t want the echo of my pain to carry over. In a way, it feels wrong to do that. Why would I want to spread that? It’s fucked up. I linger in the dark hoping to catch a glimpse of the light. But the world I see is bleak and barely the light shines in on me. I catch only the greys, maybe some beige. This dull melancholy existence likens to bloodletting. Cutting the vein of sadness and letting it out. Feeling this release but still tormented.
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