#sillywords

Do not worry the funny little shaped white things that start to melt once they are washed down the throat...alongside the big hard to swallow blue one... they are always here to help your existence.

There is nothing to write anymore. Nothing to listen to, smile at, look at, nothing to be for me. This old thing. Memories of a forgotten being, some of them sharp enough to wince at, others so empty you question if you are still breathing. There is nothing. Rien d’existence

Sometimes it’s so hard to think of myself as ‘beautiful’ or ‘important’ or even ‘good enough’, because I can’t remember the last time you made me feel that way or said that I was. The silly thing is that I’m still waiting. Waiting for you to tell me, because you’re so important me. You still influence me the most. You should have been my shoulder to cry on, my biggest supporter, someone who speaks highly of me. But the strange thing is that I can’t remember when I last saw that person in you or if you ever were that person.