25. in cursive

I can’t be sure, whether I’m being selfish or just simply foolish.
There seem to always be a thick, blurred line between the rights and the wrongs
between the do’s and the don’ts
between the yes’ and the nos.
I’m used to being told what to do,
so what I’m told is right became my reality.
Have I lost the ability to differentiate?
Have I missed out on the window of being a well functioning adult?
My daydreams are what people think normal life is like
I live and breathe in my own nightmare.

“Welcome to 25, darling,” he whispered and rolled out of bed and picked up the phone. His side is cold still, and I lit up my last cigarette.

 

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