I've found that accepting other people is easier than accepting yourself.

Which doesn't make sense, does it?

There's more people than you.

They out number you.

7 billion

to 1

But

there's a difference.

You can't say goodbye to yourself.

You can't leave when it is you

with the spitting words and sharp tongue,

when the one who is hurting you,

is you.

And sometimes....

they're kinda all you got

When your phones dead, when you messed up and the spot light is on you-

you got to count on yourself to back you up.

It doesn't always work...

but that's life.

You have to count on being able to breathe when there's no air

when this wasn't supposed to happen

When you weren't supposed to feel this way,

be this way,

fuck this up,

fall back further

and realize HEY 

WAIT A SECOND

YOU'RE

the weird one here.

when you really feel

all seven billion

and they really

do

out number you

And any hopes or aspirations feel so small

so meaningless

You see,

when I was little I had this imaginary friend named Shadow.

Now, I don't remember if it was because of some book, or Peter Pan,

or if I was more of a realist than I gave myself credit for,

But she was my shadow.

And I could always count on that.

When I was hiding in the dark,

so would she.

When I cried, or laughed, or played,

she'd be right along with me.

And I guess now I realize there's a lot of things we don't give ourselves credit for

and whether you remember their names or not,

or swear to be above such childish whimsies, 

We were all

our very first best friends.