Why

why

why can't I trust others

family, friends and whoever's in between

no matter how much they tell me they're there

or how much they say they care about me

I just don't believe them

and then isolate myself

because I'm not worthy of them

because they're too nice to me

and I am what I am

a cold block of ice

alone in my isolated fortress of solitude

telling everyone to go away

lying to everyone that I'm fine

even if they know I'm not

I can't tell them

I can't talk

whenever I try my throat tightens

my mouth shuts

my eyes drift away and tears start to form

because crying is easier then talking

explaining is hard 

and disappearing

although momentarily satisfying

demands more of myself than what I am willing to give.

no matter how much I promise to try

no matter how much I try

I just can't trust others 

and everything would be easier to fix

if I just knew 

why

Attention (or the lack thereof)

being ignored

being ignored is easy when you are sure of what others feel towards you

if they truly love me they don't need to be there for me to be sure about it

but when you're unsure about other's feelings

well

that's when doubt creeps in

and she'll feed you the most perfect lies

that friends you've known ever since hate you

that they truly despise you

that they talk behind your back or even in your face because to them you are nothing

or below nothing

doubt also tells you

that the stranger you just met

or that cute boy that just smiled at you

that they are either madly in love with you

or that they're being fake 

and loathe you with all their guts

yes being ignored is easy when you are sure of what others feel towards you

but when you aren't

being ignored is worse than being hated

because hate means commitment, it's a feeling derived from passion and obsession

and ignorance comes from indifference

and we all want to be something

we all want to be noticed

we all want attention

that's what spins the world around

Step Back

two steps forward

one step back

i think i'm better than i used to be

but in moments like this

i realize 

that i'm not

i'm still the same girl that's broken inside

the same girl who had no hope cause there wasnt any hope to have

the same girl who didnt plan the future

cause it didnt exist

two steps forward

one step back

sometimes i'm happy

sometimes i'm so full of joy light irradiates from my body

because i couldnt possibly keep it inside

happiness is valuable

because it is sweet

and short

and doesnt last

two steps forward 

one step back

i get angry more often than i should

i get angry at small things and big things

sometimes i get so angry that tears start rolling down my face

and my voice cracks because i cant make sense of myself

i get angry at myself more often than i should

maybe even for wrong reasons

two steps forward 

one step back

my progress seems small

seems often useless

sometimes it feels like taking

one step forward

two steps back

i dont know what to make of that

but progress

is progress

even if hindered by things i cant control

my progress is mine

and i will cherish it

because in the end i know i'm going

two steps forward

one step back

Coward

At the time

i couldnt possibly have told her

that i understood.

that i too had felt the same.

that she wasnt alone.

that she wasnt the only one that had been through something like that.

or was going through something like that..

i wish i could have told her

that everything will pass one day.

that it wont be like that forever.

that one day she wont feel the way she does.

but i didnt.

because i'm scared.

because i'm a coward.

because i'm afraid to speak my mind, and say what i feel or felt.

because i loved her..

i guess i still do

i dont know.

i feel

uncertain

unsure

uneased

unprepared?

i never told her

i never told her so many things.

things i needed to get off, things i needed to say.

i guess it's too late.

and now she's broken and so am i.

Hot Tea

i wish my tea was cold.

cause that's just how i feel inside.

it's warmth is too good for the emptiness that my mind has become.

i dont feel worthy of drinking it hot.

as if i had to feel worthy to drink tea.

as stupid as it might sound.

my heart is cold and it's cracks cant be filled with hot tea.

Drown

I want to drown

Not in a depressing, killing myself way.

More in a way of wanting to know how it feels to be completely overcome by water.

How it feels so look up and see the sun beeming trough the waves knowing you'll never reach it.

The way your lungs fill with water while you're powerless.

Reaching out for a breath of fresh air, or any air at all, and your thoughts flooding your brain about how helpless you are and how nothing will save you.

Reaching deeper and deeper, losing conscience, losing life.

And in the mist of the dark surrounded by water, completely give up.

Knowing your body cant handle more.

Being more water than person.

Drowning.

Daisies

It's the season of daisies.

I see'em everywhere.

 Near my house, near the sidewalk, near the places my eyes go when they need to rest.

But the Daisy I truly wish to see ends up getting lost in this garden that's my heart.

No, i'm not saying i dont like daisies, i do like them and the contrast of the white petals and the green of the grass that sends my heart in a realm of tranquility. 

I'm just saying that the way her brown eyes sparkle, that golden brown against the sun when our class window is somehow giving the slightest beam of light, and the way she gives out her braced smile when i do something somewhat relatable, and the way she cares about me, but doesnt at the same time, has a loveliness, a certain charm to it, that no flower could ever give.

That's why Daisy is my favorite flower, even though she has nothing in common with one.

Heart&Soul

My soul is a big fire that never stops burning.

Sometimes it's so big that it's flames reach the stars and touch galaxies. 

Other times it's merely ashes lightly burning and making noises on thes ground.

Cripling silently as it's fumes fade away into the dawn.

On the other hand, my heart is as cold as the artic icebergs, drifting in a sea of sorrow, waiting for a boat to crash.

Even though it's ice seems as strong as titanium, it's very fragile and must be handled carefully for it is very breakable.

Ice so cold, not even the pits of hell could melt it.

 So cold that if anyone touches it, their hand freezes so that they're forced to take it off despite how bad they want to touch it. 

My heart and soul balance one another.

 There cant be one without the other and so i live.

Beauty

Beauty is an illusion, it's not real.

It's all about symmetry, proportions, cultural vallues and personal taste.

But real beauty, real beauty it's rare, and it can be found everywhere if you take away all the fucking bullshit that society puts us to.

If you think outside the box everything will be prettier.

Real beauty is found in smiles, the way eyes shine, the way people walk, and act and talk, the way they talk about what they like and what they dont, real beauty is found in struggles, in the heartbreaks and the downfalls.

Everything else isnt real, it's an illusion, it's a shell.

Everyone is beautiful if seen by the right eyes.

Her Shirt

I havent seen her in months. 

Her hair has grown out.

 Since our break up I never expected to see her again.

 I'm pretty shocked.

 Our eyes lock and I cant help to blush.

 Dammit I shouldnt be like this.

 She's wearing a leather jacket and a shirt saying "I dont make mistakes". 

Of course she doesnt. She's flawless. Her perfect hair and perfectly done winged eyeliner.

 Her resting bitch face breaks and she smirks at me. 

She turns her back while I stand there paralysed. 

She takes her jacket off and puts her hair do the side.

 "I date them" is written on the back of her shirt.

 That explains the narcissistic quote on front.

 I'm not surprised she has a passive agressive phrase on her shirt.

 I'm more surprised she thinks that about our failed relationship.

 I guess some things really do change.

Magic

My best friend is a magician.

No, I don't mean it in the way that our friendship is magic, no. I mean it in the way that he does magic. Card tricks, pulling rabbits out of hats. Smoke and mirrors.

I'm too rational for magic, I quickly understand his tricks, the way he pulls the cards, the way you think he has an ace of hearts in his hands but it was a joker all along.

He says i'm not the best audience. That instead of awstruck and admiration he gets a curious girl asking him to do the trick again till she understands how it happens.

But I admire him.

 I truly do.

I love each individual move he does while doing cardistry, and the way he loves his magic gets me full of excitement and admiration even if it's not my passion. And this sorta gets back to the first sentence I mentioned.

Yes, my best friend is a magician. 

A freaking good one. 

But the greatest magic I ever saw is the magic in his eyes while doing what he loves.