Writers 
There is a very thin line
between giving up
and being heartless.
We don't get to talk about
running from what makes others happy
because maybe
you are a jinx of it.
Holding your breath
like you're in trouble—
maybe that makes you whole?
Sassy little ruin
of what people call
the best thing to ever exist.
Oh well...
Does it actually
have to happen to me?
Can't the universe
skip me
from the plans
the world has to go through?
Can I stay in my bed
without a single word
from anyone?
Can I shut people out
without an explanation?
Do I need people
close to me?
People hurt people.
But somehow,
some people heal too.
But am I okay
if I say
I don't want to be healed?
What if healing
is not something that helps?
What if the world
is meant to be awkward?
What if being numb
feels safer than being healed?
What if the people
meant to heal you
turn out to hurt you too?
What if my version of healing
is hurting more?
What if I keep pushing people away
because I already know
how losing them feels?
What if being cold
is my way
of not getting burned?
Maybe giving up
isn't being heartless.
Maybe it's the fear
of feeling—
feeling everything at once
until it starts hurting.
Maybe it's a way of running,
thinking you won't be caught.