I bathed the world in black and white,
baring my soul,
wandering the night with an angel.
I had so many questions,
so many shadows that stalked us as we walked,
so many scenarios that danced around my head,
obsessed with the idea that life would be more wonderful without me in it.
I’d like to say that it was a somber scene,
everyone falling apart at the seams without me to sew them together,
but my ego was astounded,
ascending to the darkest depths,
because as it all turns out,
I am not the centre of the universe,
and most people’s lives do not wither and die if I do not exist.
It’s okay to be inconsequential,
I suppose.
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