You see me crying, curled up in a ball on the floor. I want you to come to me. I want you to tell me I’m pathetic. I want you to look me in the eyes and lie to me. Tell me you don’t wish I was never born. Don’t lie. Admit it. You wish you could unmake me. Because if I don’t hear that, I won’t listen to you anymore. Because I understand. Because I know what you are feeling. Because I’ve always wanted to not exist, to vanish.