dead letter office:

am i invisible?
most times i truly believe i am.
what with people not listening or thinking,
it’s hard to get through most days,
let alone carry strangers with you through it.
it’s exhausting translating for people who do not speak
& tiring speaking around those who’s logic has failed them.
sometimes the only truth is silence.

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Filed under bad poetry, whatsthefuckingpoint?, white wall, words, writing, your move sucker

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