It’s weird not knowing what to say or how to react to things, it’s like you’re a robot.

And you’re masking all this emotion because you’re afraid you’ll fuck everything up so you just say nothing.

But that makes it worst—it makes you appear aloof and detached. You stand there with lock jaw from clenching back the words that are far too venemous for them to hear right now.

Sometimes you just feel like it’s better to give up, to not care about anything and everything. But that’s the easy way out. So you sit there and listen and start to see red seep into your line of vision. And your hands—fuck your hands are shaking—because all this emotional turmoil is just begging to be released in simple, short sentences.

But you can’t, because that’s not want they want  need to hear. You have to sit there and listen no matter how sick it makes you feel, your opinions must be watered down to appear soft and level headed.

You’re dancing on the  tightrope of conversation and nothing feels right anymore; things are confusing and you’ve just given up on trying to understand, which is the one thing you’ve vowed to never do.

So you sit there and listen.


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