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Depersonalized

I'm a speck of dust.

By Melani GosselinPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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You get to a point where you're not sure if you're just a speck of dust on the window sill or if you're a shooting star in the night sky.

You remind yourself that if it were the case that you were a shooting star you're going to last a few moments and burn out again.

When you think that you're just a piece of dust, you'll just get wiped away.

You're just lost in such a cluster of emotions that you can't even make the jump to safety.

But why?

You're a human.

You can't bend and break and be repaired in a day.

You'll fight your whole life away and live in a tunnel until you're laid to rest.

What is the point, you ask?

That's the question no one knows the answer to.

But all I know is that It feels as though you're just screaming in the dark alone,

Come to find out you're just parked on the side of the road, crying, screaming, punching your steering wheel.

The tears stop.

You breathe.

You sit there.

Until you get the guts to walk back into your home, your job, your school.

You're fine, totally fine.

You can finish the rest of this day.

Then you return to the issues 40 minutes later and go sit on the bathroom floor until it's coldness wraps you in a comforting blanket and you feel real again.

sad poetry
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