Everyday I die. Seeing you not seeing me feels like a stab in my already-wounded shelf. I used to matter. At least for me, I did. You used to see me. You used to need me. Now, I’m invisible. Now, I’m insignificant. Now, I am nothing. But what can I do? Would shoving this to your face again and again help? Haven’t you proved I’m a ghost already by not caring? I should have known. I should have not been a person. I should have not given. Caring about is not my forte. But I’ve learned from myself that once I do, I go all out. I give all my cards. It just so happened that I cared about the wrong person. Because of it… everyday I die.