We are but little tiny ants roaming in the world where feet take the time to carefully crush our heads before we duck and run for cover. The rain sweeps us off our feet, drowning us. We fall carelessly in love, only to be destroyed because our armor is nothing more than pale skin. We cry over meaningless things, wishing we could change things inevitable. Our fragile lips touch in desperate attempts to make sure we’re still there with someone else. Pulses beat with a steady pounding us, sending blood boiling at little insecurities. Our fingers are cold, longing for someone else to keep them warm. We reach out for anything to remind us life is okay in the end. Stay up all night remembering what he said to you, sleep soundly thinking of what you wish he did. Spend your days watching and longing for the softest touch of reality to pull you out of the hole you’re drowning in. Now that these things become visible, we hide them in secrets as we dream of whatever we can’t have.

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