Tag

Strangers

It’s no metaphor, no artistic hyperbole meant to hint at a deeper message that you can never really know someone and really, aren’t we all strangers, at the end?

Letting the poison slither down your esophagus like a snake, clouding your senses, taking you to nirvana, was all you really needed.

That raw display of emotion makes me so incredibly uncomfortable that I automatically reject even the idea of crying in front of people I know; If I’m alone, then I’m the only one who has to deal with (and/or judge) the big soggy mess I become when I cry.