my heart sits so heavy in my chest
that whenever i feel something
it quickly empties out whatever it was
the blood that pumps deep within
is heavier than the tears to which
is stubbornly stuck in my eyelids
the outbursts of varied emotions
and the realization that doom
is near and just ahead of me
it puts me back in place
where i don't know if i belong
my only saving grace is loneliness
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i don't feel like myself when i'm mad
i feel most like myself when i'm hurt
and when i'm happy? i only feel dread in return
at least i'm not empty, though i would rather be
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you make it so hard for me to love you
all your manipulative little schemes
isolating me from everyone
clinging onto me as if i could only be yours
as if i was of your possession
your problematic little mouth
petty ways of thinking as if you're all too nice
you make me so anxious. overthinking.
you make me feel bad without trying
hate is such a strong word
but gods, i hate hate hate you
how come you still have me wrapped around your finger?
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good night sun, good morning moon
the sun doesn't rise in my neighborhood
though it sets just right around the corner
a 500 meter walk to see it go up above the sky
and a mere 150 for it to set
do i prefer the sunrise or the sunset?
even if i'm a night owl, i like the breeze
of the sun rising, the longer walk
it takes for me to witness it
knowing i was only about to sleep
while the people around me were
just starting their day wondering
will it go for the better or the worse?
but i do not have to worry about any of that
as i end my waking moment in the rise of the sun
all i have to worry about is the tomorrow
in the setting sun, and the moon is all i see
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i like making exes out of men.
the way they try to cope after the realization of losing me.
the desperate way of unhurting themselves,
when it was them who left me to fester in my own thoughts.
though they're too foolish to realize that they can still fix what they broke.
but maybe, their ego was too hurt to try and think of ways to get me back.
does it still matter what i think? am i evil for laughing?
oh, but it is all amusing. this is not what i intended
when i came to like you. however, i did foresee this.
now this is just another story of what could've been.
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i started creating the perfect image of you
for you are the only existence that can comfort me
in this cruel-seeming excuse of a world.
she wears this intimidating smile that can
make one think she's above everyone
and it's true, she is. i could only dream of
walking side to side by her, not an honor
but a miracle it would be.
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it felt like i was fifteen again
crescent-like graves on my skin
i breath and breath, my body rejecting it
feeling retched i gag, scoffing and coughing
i plead to nothing for the storm to pass
i convince myself of baseless promises
it hasn't been that long until i glance at the clock
when i thought the waves are ceasing to exist
they aren't even dying down, i try to swallow it all
the ocean wasn't supposed to be that deep
but i fell on an endless pit
even when the skies are clear they pour
and when the self-inflicted reality hits
is only when it vanishes, distracting oneself
from the imaginary calamity one has conjured
but reality itself can't be comprehended
where should one take refuge?
where should i take refuge?
to the evacuation of unborn smiles
or the haven that is unconscious dream
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and if you forget me, then what?
would you still remember
the silly little stories i shared?
or would you see me as a fresh face
in this small world where we never met?
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i'll tell you all about it when the sun rises
because by then, i knew you'd be fast asleep
it is neither avoidance nor reluctance
neither is it fear nor worry
amusement
prolonging our suffering
is a form of torture
we are both participants
but our difference
i set up the stage
and i relish in the pain
far longer than you
though the impact will hit you far greater
once you realize what this is all about
but don't worry, the pain will all be over
just close your eyes, and don't fight back
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I know the pain of having to leave the person you love
just so they can lead a better life for themselves.
No matter how much it hurts, if it's for their own good,
I'm willing to go through the angst of it.
Even if it means I have to live through sleepless nights
where I toss and turn and cry.
For I will endure the suffering, as long as they don't have to.
Swear to me, that you won't miss me, and you'll live freely.
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i lost so much care; i don't feel like myself
i felt so free, and yet it made me sick
perhaps freedom in the name of uncaring
isn't freedom at all
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I feel like a succulent—needs time to adjust to the sun.
If you must force me to get accustomed, I'll burn.
But if you let me gradually adjust and lean towards the light, I'll manage.
A comfort zone isn't something you simply step out of, it needs time to expand.
And people say succulents are easy to take care of.
No, they can be fragile. Fun adorable little things.
They're not all the same. Similar perhaps.
Do take the time to know them; it will all be worth it.
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maybe i was the fire all along
and curious, they were
though to get close, they can't
for when they try, they burn
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sometimes, i'm afraid i might get too close
i treat humans like fire, or even roses with thorns
they're intriguing, and curious i am
but i see myself more as an observer
one who doesn't intrude nor interrupt
i stay away i must, free from the hurt
free from the lies that mask up close
free from the eternal anguish in which is you
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the lady before me [part 3]
and she stood there with hands so meek
they hid behind her, but with her head held
forward, she stares up at me, her eyes they seek
i blink at her before i attempt a smile; she dwelled
she's so close, yet to touch her i'm afraid
am i allowed to? her space i might invade
"your smile is like the moon," she said,
"crescented and bright, with lips so red"
but a crescent hides a shadow; what does
such entail? "a mystery for mine to solve"
there was none to solve, vulnerability it was,
it would be best for her to not get involved
thus, i turned on my heel, and she was the one
to touch me again, my wrist she trapped in her grasp
her hold so soft—my instinct was to stay
she said and i listened, "i'd rather you not go away"
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the canvas is full and it couldn't take more
one stroke, two strokes, its beauty might escape
the red it bled had long faded, but the traces
they remained; the art piece was yet to be satisfied
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you made me feel like i can't tell you everything
i thought you could be my comfort, my home
was it all a ruse to get me to depend on you?
or is this all coming from my trust issues?
the delusion of the boundary between lies and truth
a blurry line i can't make heads or tails out of
so this is my apology to you—if i were to
suddenly change; i'm simply protecting myself
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