Death And Bubblewrap

I need people, or friends as some might say. I don't feel like I deserve to call them friends but that's how they would appear to most. I use them as a shield. It's that shelter; that comfort of having a safety net to fall back on, to protect me from harsh realities like death and no internet connection. People are my bubble wrap.

Assurance; to be wrapped in the safe confines of a thousand air-filled pockets that individually, are as fragile as me. I feed off of that comfort, not as an addiction, but as a condition. Life enjoys my weakness. Life is that little child who runs over to me as I'm unboxed, pops the breath out of my safety and takes it all away. One by one, life kills them. 

They're all dying and this fragility is starting to frighten me.


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