Blind faith.
Perceived insanity.
The fire which welds the broken shards of self back together.
The wrecklessness which assures us solitude, space, to process and transform.

I’m no longer accepting gifts of blatant disregard. I’ll leave you to the memory of that which you believe had filled you, the “memory” you say left you with no reason to live.

I’ve been here all along, invisible to you, as you dump on me your sorrow. I remove myself from your sounding board. I’ve no need to hear of it any more. Or to assist you in processing.