Tiny Writing: Seven
~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~
They Count on Me.
Lately it’s all become too similar. It feels like a feeling I can’t shake, a mood I can’t get out of, a day that repeats, but most noticeably, a sense of nervousness that won’t leave me. I don’t feel the same like I used to. I won’t say anything about, as I have too many people counting on me, too many that I can’t disappoint. I hate this feeling so much. Nothing feels the same. Yet, everything is far too similar. The faces that pass me by are strange, yet all too familiar. These faces all have a story to tell, whereas my voice is always silenced by that of another. Stuck in the perpetual feeling of nothing at all, and absolutely too much at once.
~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~
They Count on Me.
Lately it’s all become too similar. It feels like a feeling I can’t shake, a mood I can’t get out of, a day that repeats, but most noticeably, a sense of nervousness that won’t leave me. I don’t feel the same like I used to. I won’t say anything about, as I have too many people counting on me, too many that I can’t disappoint. I hate this feeling so much. Nothing feels the same. Yet, everything is far too similar. The faces that pass me by are strange, yet all too familiar. These faces all have a story to tell, whereas my voice is always silenced by that of another. Stuck in the perpetual feeling of nothing at all, and absolutely too much at once.
~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~✿~
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