#00124: Second Person

My car drove off and left me stranded. My clothes took themselves off and left me naked. My life moved on without me.

You give and you give; you bleed to make everyone happy. You sweat to ensure they’re all comfortable. 

And then you forget yourself.

You hold on – you fucking hold on O so fucking dearly to all the memories you had with them – you cherish both the memory and the person, and you do this all the time. You expect the smile that comes with eternal appreciation, not for what you did, but what you are. 

But you still end up broken because you notice that you’ve forgotten about yourself. Every-fucking-time.

You haven’t used the second-person narrative approach in a while; you chose to forget yourself, and now yourself has given up on you.

1 reply »

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: