since -I was told- I came into existence I keep rolling down the hills of life in a shiny bubble of an illusion of me hiding with all my wrongness inside until someone bursts it and all my nothingness comes free. Even at being wrong, I keep failing it's like I'm not even good enough to be bad I'm just an empty bubble of nothingness with all the shiny reflections on the surface of the person I created pretending she is something of matter even my tears are abstract and my wrongness is imagined and I'm so afraid of anyone finding out that I'm just a sad sad collection of carefully selected pieces of doubt. trying to fit in somewhere again I don't belong how can emptiness take space anyway maybe if I squeeze my non-existence enough It'll fit into someone's life full of joy with definitely no space for me and maybe this time I can come alive in someone else's loving presence. If someone real loves me, it means I'm real, too, right?