Maybe for once you should think about how you make others feel. Maybe you should consider how the things you say and the ways in which you say them might be hurtful.
Not everyone is as self assured as you. Not everyone has a clear idea of the world. Not everyone is so sure of everything. That doesn't make their ideas worthless or the topics they bring up less worth discussing.
What gives you the right to judge people straight away? Assess the situation before you've ever heard everything? Dismiss whatever else I have to say right off the bat? Don't you even consider, for even one second, what that's like for me? When I wanna just bring up a lighthearted topic of discussion and you CONSTANTLY shutting me down... can you blame me for being annoyed?
And when I point this out, your only reaction is anger? What are you angry about? How dare I think of you this way? How dare I be hurt because I get the feeling that you think I'm stupid? Or are you angry because you always ALWAYS have to be right?
And even IF you never meant to make me feel stupid or insignificant, even if you unintentionally hurt me, couldn't you just apologize anyway? No. No you can't.
You just have to come and fucking talk to me like that, in the coldest tone you can muster, giving an apology that's not an apology, a promise that's like an accusation, a threat.

And you know what? I bet this will be my fault again in the end.
It's always my fucking fault.

_

Nightmare

I had a nightmare this morning, before my brother woke me up and essentially saved me. The feeling of panic was still raw in my chest after I'd woken up. I felt out of breath, my lungs hurt and my chest ached.

I'd been dreaming that I was almost blind. It had hit me suddenly. My world had become blurs and dim shadows in an instant. And in the moment, I'd fallen, I'd lost the feeling in my legs, I'd felt the world spin. For some reason I had been holding a lot of stuff: piles of books, a bag filled with clothes, boxes of my treasures.
And I'd dropped everything in that moment.. And I sat there, surrounded by my possessions, blindly trying to gather them all up. But no matter how hard i tried, i couldn't pick everything up. Everything seemed to become a bigger mess.
I sat there helpless, and began to call for help. And I could sense people walking by. I could feel their eyes on me, feel their presence and hear their footsteps. But not one person stopped to help me. Eventually, I began to cry. Not cry as in tears falling slowly, but sobbing, gasping for air, trying to call out for help in a broken voice.
It was terrifying.

_

Your words touch me
I don't know why.
To me, you are nobody, nobody.
Yet they envelop me -  each syllable still warm
and moist, fresh off your tongue.
they feather across my cheek and flash in front of my eyes
as I mouthe them unconsciously,
my lips mirroring yours.
My skin scorches, my throat burns as I
swallow the significance
of each word you choose.
They pierce my chest, ink my heart
so I may never forget their darkness and their weight
or how they poisoned my blood.
Each inflection in your voice deafens me with its ring in my ears and -
the memory of your pauses are suffocating, suffocating.
So sometimes, when it storms
I stand in the rain for hours
choking on the raindrops,
trying to wash away the taint
your words have left on me.

_