Whispering good morning to no one.
Setting up a routine for the sake of it.
Quiet hide away on the hill.
Travelling down the mountain to go and find more knowledge when the mind is full and can’t afford attention.
Can’t pay attention.
They only said it at least five times.
Can’t I speak any quieter.
Insisting the knowing doesn’t change who has been known.
I can’t fit the part.
So I’m just a side character. I don’t get a story.
No one writes about me because I’m not interesting enough to exist.
Tried to play protagonist in my own life.
I don’t deserve it.
I thought everyone did.
Empty hollow meaningless wasted game.
Played and ended.
Victory tastes like blood.
I don’t want to live through this anymore.
I never wanted to last this long.
I never had a plan. I just do.
Drugs misery and blood.
I win.
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