stargrace Sadness. Slipping. Afraid to speak up. Afraid to inconvenience. Wrapped up in their own happenings, I observe. I know their stories. I hear their cries. I reach out.
They don’t. Stop expecting them to. Stop this preconceived notion that they should be a certain way. Stop being disappointed.
No family. No friends. No sleep. Just thoughts. Too many thoughts.
Enough.