Do you know what the funny part is, that the sun sets when you come closer to me, without knowing that there is nothing I could be other than yours.
Here I am again questioning my identity of who I am, and who I want to be. Why am I so much connected than I lost myself in the way that your existence matter to me, more than mine ever did.
When the rain pours into my pillow, I see those patches of my loneliness and the vacant thing inside me crave awareness. I don’t want to be somebody’s commodity but the little secret things they hide from the world like their diary with ink poured and words that I feel are heavy.