It’s not the hurt that matters but who inflicted it, does. The despair.
I wanted to scream, raise the hell, pull my hair, and bleed myself. Now, I just don’t want anything. No comments, no arguments. Resignation.
There was a time full of dreams, there was a hope. Now, I don’t dream anymore. It scares me. I expected.
I’m letting something die within everyday. There is no remorse.
I empathised, I sympathised, I tried pricking the nerves to know am I being immune. But nothing is left.
Only, The Despair.