cold and alone

 

Why do I even bother to share stories with someone who doesn't ask me how I am?

And in all of this, I've only been given explanations based on observations from afar

I'm finding it unfair that not once have I been approached by anyone to offer me anything

Only pleas for help, support, a listening ear, and advice for their personal crisis

I feel like a thread that's unraveling from its spool on its way to an inevitable end

And to the god in whom I find comfort in not existing.

Thanks but no thanks.