sometimes I wonder what it’s like to be loved.
what it’s like to be absolutely adored.
what it’s like to be a character in one of my books.
then I wake up and remember i’m human,
not someone’s figment of their imagination,
though sometimes I think I truly am.
if my skin bled would you see me?
if I screamed till my lungs give out would you hear me?
or will I always be the one to wonder?
wish?
beg?
I guess i’ll beg till my bones turn to dust.
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