sleep tight.

What if I tell you, there might not be a tomorrow for me,
instead of the constant "I won't always be around."
or that of " I might not be here when you wake up."

No good morning texts, no how's your day or what you've been up to today- none of what you're used to. What happens next, once you no longer hear from me. Dropping to pure silence, is it me or you that's left lost and bewildered, we'd know then. Might I finally care more about me, than anyone else- maybe. However nothing is as it seems isn't it? It could just be me. No other legitimate enough reason. Things have finally overwhelm me enough to make me not bother to even struggle out of this suffocation. 

With me, there is never a precise verdict, it all depends on what I'm force to do or accept next. It's funny, always is. Not funny ha ha, funny sad. It should be grey, haplessly I don't live with much choices. It's either black, white, or stuck in dull nothingness. Either way I've to make my move sooner or later. I've grown to despise the fact that as life goes on, it drags me along with it. 

You soon forget to notice, how so many doesn't. People don't care that way; they'd never. Maybe it is true, how people are only here, for their own convenience; only when it's beneficial to them. They are not you. You would sacrifice yourself in order to make things bearable for everyone of that you love and purposely make it seem as if you've done nothing but made them suffer or weigh them down superfluously. Every deed you made you left in disguise. Just so maybe it'd be easier for them to leave you as they wish to. You were not much to lose, you would make them believe. At the same time wishing they knew. They never do.

Nobody ever saw right through you. They couldn't read between the lines. They would not have noticed even if it was taped onto their forehead despite the amount of times they've took glances of themselves through a mirror. No one saw any sense in what I've done, my reasons to all the choices I've made or why I live a certain way. In the end it only backfires on me once I change my ways, the moment I start to do things for me. I've been proclaim to be as selfish since god knows when whether or not I did what was right or wrong. No one ever saw the rationality in any of what I do.

I am, just, in fact, another tool.

So what if or would happened I didn't wake up tomorrow?

Nothing. Nothing happens even if so much would. In the end nothing really has. With me, nothing has always been the answer and nothing ever matters, nothing is ever enough so maybe, nothing I will finally become.

-riri-