You don't know me. How can you even pretend to know me if I don't even know myself. I've got a stake in my chest and it's piercing my left lung. I missed.
Don't tell me what I can't do. I've got enough voices in my head telling me what I can and cannot do. You don't know me. I don't know me either. No one really takes me seriously, not me anyway. I've got enough problems myself.
I've got stories inside me and the energy is gone. Maybe it's vicarious trauma. Maybe it's laziness, though I know it's not. I'm not sure who I am anymore. I'm learning so much about myself that I don't know who I am.
The words are gone again. So I'll talk with you later.