accents.

"and i pray to God that you won't come back here anymore."
-m.o.


i always feel like i should go up to her. tap her on her familiar shoulder. tell her my thoughts. how i feel.
but, i know that one can't get through to someone who knows everything already.
one can't get through to someone who doesn't want to, who won't, listen.

so i continue about my daily routines, pretend those cells that she possesses don't even exist.



same person, different dimensions; she fucking wishes.