Hands floating up to the surface

Breaking the silent and still





I can't do this I can't do this I can't do this



I went to Chapters today, and when I went into the bathroom stall, I saw all these optimistic messages. All of the messages were written in pen, and the hand writing seemed similar. I knew what kind of people they were.

I had my (beloved) Sharpie. I crossed out one of the messages.
I wrote things too. They were just different.
Why?
Because I felt like it.
I felt like they didn't understand at all what being sad was like.

So fuck you.
Just because I said so.
And I don't care.