Slumbering. 

When you were surrounded by a crowd and everybody was talking and laughing and smiling, didn’t you feel like you were a numbskull with your face tilted towards your shoulder and had nobody to smile with? I don’t know how people walk  when they are depressed or agitated but I walk like I don’t want to. There are a blast of feelings in my head trying to be a joker for me but I put my head down and sleep. Sleep is something I’ve always loved to do. I can’t show somebody my tears rolling down my cheeks and making my clothes wet.  My hands shake and my legs are almost numb. I try to wave away everyone who comes to know what’s wrong but the truth is that I don’t even know what’s wrong and what good is supposed to happen. I am cold. There’s a lump in my throat, that is the last sign of your anger turning into a waterfall. I want to run away, away from here, away from pain when I am victimized. I wish that a certain sound or some water will take me back to life but I’m almost dead underneath. Will I ever get a life that was supposed to be mine? Will I ever get a reason to be happy? Will I ever find someone to give me a cold shoulder? Or will I stay as a joke for this world always? I’ve been betrayed by people,  by life and by myself to live again. I try to assemble the broken pieces but they only can be joined together, they can never get fixed. I hear languages around me that I don’t understand, people translate it for me but I’m not even present there.

I sleep again into my dreams in which I’m serenaded, loved and away from the people shouting on me or on the people near me. I sleep because I’m tired and I don’t know if I’ll get a chance to live for myself. I sleep and cry but don’t know out of all the reasons, which reason am I weeping for. I cry because I’ve to wake up again and fake a smile  and lie again. 

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