Here’s a beautiful piece by Ramisa
A strong form of human apathy, a hindrance to empathy: we equate similar experiences to our own. Instead of joining hearts, stretching our lingering limbs to clasp and envelop a shaking one, it becomes an analytical process. Judgemental. Critical.
In uneven breaths, they explain, “I just… I can’t… this… is too much.”
‘This‘ happens to be an all-too-familiar skeleton in your closet.
Building a barricade around your heart, incredulity rips the bottom corner of your lip, until the edges glint like a blade. “I endured this on my own. Not a soul to turn to –only the roaring sound of my own screams, constrained within four glass walls. My voice drowned longer than the entirety of your existence. Until I let the darkness engulf me. I haven’t been the same, but I kept myself alive. Though there were many, many days I wish I weren’t.”
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