I am jealous of books,

the stories that have been created from beautiful minds,

but they tear me apart inside.

I'm jealous of every broken character who finds their place,

their person,

their home,

Normal days,

tragic endings,

I was playing games,

you were seeing lights,

I was listening to background noise and music,

you were hearing sirens.

Glass breaking,

life shattering,

All I want is you,

I try,

I try to talk to you,

spend time with you,

but it just annoys you,

I don't know what to do anymore.

I text you,

you ask 'what do you want?'