Morning love, are you ok?

I fucking hate you

Love or lust. Nightmare of a summer dream, fishing in a puddle of mud to maybe find a peace of mind or, soothing company. Abandon at 6 am, leave no trace but only the taste of my lips in a lost mouth. Alone.

Either ways the night calls and I fail to answer. Light beams shatter my eyes as the thin cloth of hope lingers inside my chest. A girl, she stares. My eyes blink once, twice, real, raw, flesh. Flood of blood to my bones, aches cease, I’m not ready.

Her loving eyes pierce deep into my skin unveiling true wounds, yet the sense of awareness fades as my eyes blink for a third time. This time, she’s gone, for good I think, I’m not that sure now. Left no sign of life, no sign of interest.

Still I persuade myself to embrace the sound while the indifference of their faces clashes into my ribs and tears me open. Everyone for himself, only the fittest will claim victory. So why Loneliness seeks to me between the multitude? Your face it is, solitude.

I don’t belong here.

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