I don't know where are my cursed experiences leading me to,
As if I'm distancing myself an infinite light years away from everyone,
As if I'm again putting shells and only shells on my already tough skin,
As if I'm once again believing how I couldn't be any part of my dear ones' lives,
As if my presence is like an ever unnecessary argument to them,
Until they lose the ones they already have,
Until they've no one to choose to tell their stories, feel broken, lost, perplexed, or might be sometimes weak enough to say how much they love me in the darkest hours of the nights,
How my existence vanishes within the blink of an eye,
How one can be so much needfully useless?
Oh God, why are relations a luxury in my life I fail to afford?