A lump in my throat lasted for a couple of hours. Maybe it was the same one that was there days ago, growing more hurtful next to the ones I ignored a couple of lifetimes ago, and I bet there were more that collaterally decided to unite and suffocate me.
Talking nonsense, they said.
I always exaggerated what I felt, they assumed.
I overheard what I shouldn’t, they blamed.
I myself am sick of it. They never believed that I’m always sick of how loud I am, haunting others that I always want more, I always demand what had been given to me once, miraculously, and I always feel like I am such a deafening siren that never stops echoing “Believe me I’m dying. I assure you I won’t hurt you if you just stayed. For a lifetime I had lived misunderstood, will you give up unpuzzling me too?”
She feared the most, they roared.
I always overheard them saying that they loved me, I foolishly defended them.
They would never want me dead, I weeped, the minute their bare hands were some flesh away from the lump that choked me.
Random Thoughts 