Watching to see what this person wants from me.
An escape? No. They know there isn’t one. We’re all stuck here.
Relief? They can’t really believe intertwining our lives creates it.
A new belief? Make a person your religion, and your own apocalypse is only a matter of time.
Do they even know?
They see the differences between us as contrast—something exciting, something new.
I see them as the shape of our ending.
I watch the rules they swear they’ll never break begin to bend.
“You’re the exception.”
I don’t want to hear those words.
They will always be met with rejection.