Do people see right through me?
Is that why they're scared to come closer,
Frightened of me jumbling their feelings
and unveiling all the secrets they couldn't keep?

A self-defence mechanism designed by their hurt brains to stop them from re-visiting pain?
And instead
Wallowing in their empty, ephemeral friendships
Not giving me the time of day,
Not granting themselves the chance to be heard for once.
"Your loss", I think.
But the truth is, I love to listen, love to cure someone else's wounds
In order not to feel alone in this psychedelic path
called life.

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