after nikita gill. i mean, not completely, but a little bit.
i just want to write a poem for the people who are alone in this. i want to write a poem for the people who beleive they are so fucking below this. i want to write a poem for the broken pieces. a poem for the people who gave up on themselves a long time ago. a poem for the people who still get surprised whenever strangers on the street notice them enough to even bother saying hello. a poem for the people with bombs in their chests. because if there’s anything writing has taught me, it’s that the shittiest and most beautiful thing is that we’re never the only ones going through this. even though i wish none of us had to ever even think about going through this. even though i just wish, sometimes, that i could close my eyes, and make the pain go away, all right? and i just want to write a poem for how much this world needs you here. for how much i want you here. and i’m not saying it’s always going to be easy. i’m not saying it’s ever going to be easy. i just want the two of us, somehow, someday, even if it’s a million miles away, to make it through this.
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