If something ever were to kill me, that would be words.

Words from people who matter, who doesn’t matter, who cares, who doesn’t.

Just words.

I have been killed by them too many times, that I have refused to recall those things in the past when words have eaten away part of me.

Like they said, I have an elephant memory. Thus, whenever something happens, it would just evoke those memories, and I am reminded once again that, I am, truly, afraid.

Fucking afraid.

If I can have my way, I wouldn’t want to be at the zoo tomorrow.

But I know the self in me will never allow myself to do so.

Of all things, words. Which everyone is capable of.

And thus, I have stuff a weapon into everyone’s hands, to stab, mutilate, and destroy me with.

But, who can I blame?

Essentially, I am the one who bestowed them the power, and rights to do so.

I can’t sleep.

Call it anxiety, call it a heaviness in the heart.

3.51am.

The countdown begins.