my only refuge is deep in my sketcbook where very few dare to venture or my notebooks where no one has time to care. everything ive ever wanted to say or express but oppressed because of a fear of rejection, judgement or mockery. i dont want pity i want openess. im a master at listening because thats i expect the same in return but it rarely occurs. im not good with words unless im talking to myself but that at times doesnt seem to help much. ill just keep listening to you while reciting my internal monologue, perfecting it so i may enter it flawlessly into my sketchbook or notebook. i doubt its even worth reading compared to yours hers or his. just a kid with itty bitty issues looking for attention at the end of the day