Incessantly

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.
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