by the light of a yellow lamp at 1am

I will miss them. Not because we share a special connection, not because we have anything in common at all, not even because any one of them is kind or friendly in the least—I will miss them because I know them. And they know me. Isn’t that all I want of life: to know and be known? Isn’t that all anyone wants?

Respira, respira, when everything is so wrong there’s nothing to look at, respira, respira, as you drag your tired body back where no one wants to go, respira, respira, if only to prove them wrong—respira.

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