I am not nonchalant.
I am not cool.
Call me calm, morally gray.
Emotionless.
You say independent, an introvert.
Quite, controlled.
Indifferent.
Different.
I'm not.
I just learned that in the end no one actually cares if I am dead or alive.
No one cares about my pain.
No one even notices until they want something.
I can't depend on people, not emotionally, so I mastered disattachment.
I only speak when you want to hear it, only say what is a thousand times filtered.
I do not attach myself to people or things, I apologize only to seem like I am real, cry only when alone because god forbid I am.
God forbid I am a real person.
I was a normal, real, healthy person.
Human, if you will.
I needed help picking up the broken pieces of the half shattered glass heart that used to be so full of love.
Until it broke.
I needed someone to hand me a broom...