I would wish for love.
I would wish for acceptance.
I would wish that I could matter.
I would wish that I could show someone every part of my soul...
And that they would embrace it.
Not hold judgement on it...
Or run screaming from it.
I would wish for love as though it were a need...
Not an option.
Like air in my lungs.
My insides burned without it.
I was hollow.
I could walk...
Talk...
Smile...
Laugh.
I could not FEEL.
Not happiness.
Not joy.
Not excitement.
Not love.
Only emptiness.
I did not have the sensation of dying...
How can something die,
when it was never alive.
I was an object.
I felt like a fake.
Like a liar.
I would walk around in this human skin,
pretending to be a person...
Constantly apologizing.
For any thoughts or actions that were ever my own.
Though I wanted desperately to be a person,
I knew I never could be.
I was simply less than human.
Unlovable.
Disposable.
Useless.
Worthless.
Hopeless.
HOPELESS.
I did not hope for love.
I have been careful with my words.
No...
I did not hope for love.
But I wished for it.
You wish for the impossible.
You wish when there is no hope.
