What then…?
What happens when my eyes can no longer moisten
And the only proof of pain are hot droplets of my sanity as it melts,
trickling down my brain like molten magma
Dissolving everything in its path
Hope. Love. Reason. Truth. Logic. Resolve...
?
What happens when my screams are soundless
And the only evidence of my battles are the wrinkles left on my face from intense contraction.
Even then, would they be seen as a cry for help
Or would they just be another opportunity to market your skincare products...
?
What happens when every;
'I’m good, hbu?'
is just an avoidance of a guilt tripped;
'What’s wrong?'
An avoidance of a grammatical error that really means;
'I’m asking cos it would be bad not to.'
?
What happens when you wonder if i wrote this from experience
?
What happens when i insist that it’s just fiction and I’m perfectly fine.
?
