They say it isnt real unless its spoken or recognized.
But how could it not be?
I feel it in the pit of my stomach, at the base of my mouth, attempting to roll its words off my tongue, yet somehow never being able to.
I feel it struggling to form the words, in every beat of my heart, aching for the feeling to be known.
Tell me, how can this not be real? My brain has already declared itself crazy for filling itself with the same thought over and over again.
My neurons have shouted this message a million times, and I challenge you to tell me it is not real.
I challenge you, to dare speak its falsity, when my whole body has already shouted its authenticity.
– QueenCoward