Sometimes I feel strange.

I walk for hours thinking about what I’m thinking.

Sometimes, I watch my cellphone to be sure no-one tried to call me, because it doesn’t work very well.
For a moment, when it doesn’t show anything new, I smile like I’m happy.
But sometimes, I lie to myself. And I’m not happy about it.

Sometimes I feel like I deserve something more than what I have.
But I also feel like I deserve something less.

Sometimes I don’t deserve, at all.
Sometimes I do.

Sometimes I.
Sometimes I do not.

Like if I want to die.
But sometimes I do.
Sometimes I do not.

And here I am.
Sometimes.