It's all pointless.

Something about the dark is so daunting. You don't know what could be waiting for you in there.

I see him in my dreams and together, we dance. I see the man that I once knew and the man I hoped he would become. I'm desperate for this time we have together, but I know it's not real. Yet, I still yearn for every touch, every look that I can steal from him, from what is left of him, my memories.

She painted her face as an artist painted a porcelain doll. Each face creating a different personality. Each one was unique in their own way, but at the end of the night, when everything stilled and the paint chipped away, the bones of the person before came to surface. Masks don't last forever.

I was standing in a puddle of my mistakes and watched as my reflection drowned. I tried to save myself but I slipped through my fingers every time. So I turned my back and walked further and further into the ocean of my mistakes.

They walked around me as if I wasn't there. I was invisible to them and as much as I wanted to be found, I recoiled back into my silence. They wouldn't care to hear what I said and I didn't care to speak it.

We're all connected by sadness.