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Description
He sits.
Here. Behind his computer.
His eyes looking around. Shadows everywhere.
Blocking pain with a smile. He does that often. Every day.
But these moments, are lost for eternity.
There's no way to get them back.

Maybe he's not real?
He doesn't know.
He doesn't have a name.
So he takes the first letter, to try to find something to identify it with.
Purple hearts are broken, you know.

Would it be such a terrible thing to be broken?
He's crying. But he's not. Not by his face. You can't read him.
He wants something. Someone. To connect with.

He wants to break down.
Life is so... Just.. Sad.. Isn't it..

You go to work. Try to concentrate on the 9-5. But when you come home, and you can hear the emptiness. The heartbeat. Beating inside your chest..
Loneliness.
Heartache.. Desperation.
He knows these feelings well enough.

We are his captors. And so, we live for him.
The supposed real is just grey.
Like mirrors. Like the times you spend counting. In your head. Over and over. Trying to find the right way to make the voices go away.

They are my daggers..
I've been there. When he's angry. When he's suffering.
He's already been broken down.

Life is sad.. And there's nothing we can do about it.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Contemplate the life you would have, without us..

You want us to change you.
To make things better.
So we let you breathe. Because we want you to sleep.

We are with you.
And so, we are you.
Maybe you have no name.
What name would you like?
...

~End~

Description
He sits.
Here. Behind his computer.
His eyes looking around. Shadows everywhere.
Blocking pain with a smile. He does that often. Every day.
But these moments, are lost for eternity.
There's no way to get them back.

Maybe he's not real?
He doesn't know.
He doesn't have a name.
So he takes the first letter, to try to find something to identify it with.
Purple hearts are broken, you know.

Would it be such a terrible thing to be broken?
He's crying. But he's not. Not by his face. You can't read him.
He wants something. Someone. To connect with.

He wants to break down.
Life is so... Just.. Sad.. Isn't it..

You go to work. Try to concentrate on the 9-5. But when you come home, and you can hear the emptiness. The heartbeat. Beating inside your chest..
Loneliness.
Heartache.. Desperation.
He knows these feelings well enough.

We are his captors. And so, we live for him.
The supposed real is just grey.
Like mirrors. Like the times you spend counting. In your head. Over and over. Trying to find the right way to make the voices go away.

They are my daggers..
I've been there. When he's angry. When he's suffering.
He's already been broken down.

Life is sad.. And there's nothing we can do about it.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Contemplate the life you would have, without us..

You want us to change you.
To make things better.
So we let you breathe. Because we want you to sleep.

We are with you.
And so, we are you.
Maybe you have no name.
What name would you like?
...

~End~