What's it like to be ignored? How do you deal with people not even giving the slightest mind to your opinion? What's it like to be avoided? Avoided because it's awkward to pass by you down the hall. How do you deal with loneliness when it's the most beautiful time of your day. Why do you breathe when all you want is to exhale your very last breath of your wounded life. What do you tell your family when they ask how's your life, "fine"? When did you get so brave to say your life is "fine"? "Do you have a girlfriend?". "How's school? Do you have many friends?".

  It is hard to breathe this thick air. It is hard to overlook your wounds. Your cry is red, warm in comfort. Your most noticed power is invisibility, it is your weakness and your forte. Your heart is proudly hard during the day and teary mellow at night. Your thoughts are in constant debate and neither side seems to loose, leading to prolonged insanity. You pick the side that talks in behalf of your comfy zone.

You seat and wait for THE day to come. This manufactured day that you have fabricated in your head for almost as long as when your pain begun. You know this day exists, sometimes you doubt it. It's the day that keeps you going. It's the reason for every breath you take. This is a particular day, it's the day that never comes.