I try to be just something, but I never get it.
I never get that thought,
That right thing,
That bad thing,
That I have no idea of what it is.
I can never catch that moment,
When you hold my hand like there's no tomorrow,
Like I'm unique,
Special.
I can never appreciate you like I know you deserve.
I can never love you less.
I can never stop of feeling alive with you.
I can never not want you.
It's your fault,
I know it is.
And even with all this I never get it,
I can't be just something,
Because you make me feel much more than that.
You make me feel like someone,
Someone that exists.

I think I miss you,
But then I re-think it.
And I see I miss the things I was able to do with you,
I miss the way you tried to make me feel when I was sad sometimes,
I miss the way you loved me until some point.
But I don’t miss you.
I just would like to have what I miss back,
But I can’t,
‘Cause that would mean I would have to have you again.
And I don’t want that.
I don’t want that pain again.
I only want the happy things you were able to give me.
I want the piece you took out of me,
The love you took out of me.
But I can't have it back.
So tell me,
Will I be able to love again without everything that is missing?

Me,
You.
You,
Me.
**... never us...

She* gave too much to others,
And forgot about herself.

Another blank page,
Where my heart should be.

Do you know what to do when you're sad?
When you're mad?
I don't.
Everything I do when I'm sad or mad it's a ******* impulse.
A ******* impulse.
I would like to control it but sometimes I can't.
I can't!
It's like it's not even me that thinks in that moment,
Or maybe it's the me that thinks too much.
I don't even know.
Have you ever done something and then regretted it?
I did.
That *****.
I don't like to feel that way.
It's like you thought that you knew everything,
That you knew yourself.
But the reality it's that you don't.
I don't.
Not even someone who isn't born yet knows!
We don't know anything.
I don't know anything.
And then we just keep doing the same and the same mistakes,
And that makes me sick,
Sick of life.
Because I do that ******* same mistakes too.
Don't we know that that it's a ******* mistake?
Don't we know that's bad?
Don't I know it?
Yes, we do.
Yes, I do.
We still do it anyway.
I still do it anyway.
We are really selfish beings,
We all are.
I'm.
**And that ******* *****.

It's so sad,
How I keep lying to myself,
And I know it.

Sometimes when you come to me crying and saying that you did it again,
I just want to say "*******".
Because nobody really deserves to be with you.
"*******", because I don't want to hear your excuses again.
"*******", because you think you're better than me.
"*******", because you really deserve to be ****** up by yourself.
"*******", for all the times you ****** me and I didn't enjoy it.
"*******", for not loving me.
"*******", for staying with me without reasons.
"*******", for knowing me.
But most important of all,"*******" because I don't say any of these words.

Maybe I was having a nightmare,
When I saw you.

What my mouth can't say,
**I will be sure my poems do.

... no...
I can't find myself anymore.

**I don't know who I was to being with.

Coward people,

It's said that they are coward people,

Weak people who can't control the situation.

I don't think the same way,

For me they aren't more than just people,

People who try to do a stupid thing,

But the most courageous thing too.

It's not like from a moment to the other you can do it,

You need courage,

And a lot of it,

More than I will ever have.

I want you.
All for me.
Only me.
Only for my benefit.
Only for my enjoyment.
Only because I saw you,
And I liked you.
You were the chosen one,
To suffer by my hands.
Get used to it.

I sat again in that lonely pavement.
You appeared.
"Hi, Julie."
I took another cigarette.
"Hi, Eugene."
You sat next to me.
And we smoked together.

I'm scared.

I'm scared of you.

I'm scared of me.

I'm scared that you won't believe me.

I'm scared of not being here tomorrow.

I'm scared of what I feel.

I'm scared of what I may feel.

Don't cry,

Don't blame yourself,

Don't try to comfort me,

Because I know that you are scared too.

Don't try to put me the confidence you don't have.

Don't deceive yourself with fake hopes.

Don't try to fight against something that is with you and with me.

Don't pretend that you are not scared.

Because you are and me too.

To: You
From: Me

Open this letter when someone precious to you betrayed your trust~
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Look Honey, I'm going to be honest with you like I've always been. When we trust someone there's always that chance that the trust we gave is going to be broken, turned into little pieces you can't seem to catch anymore. Because we're only humans, and humans tend to do the most beautiful things, but the most horrible ones as well. It happens, people come and go, take and throw away, even the most precious and irreplaceable things to them, nothing we can do about it. Maybe you'll break someone's trust some day as well, or maybe you won't, but there's a pretty big chance it'll happen, because we all have that chance on us. But Darling, trust is to give and take whenever you want, whenever you feel like you have reasons for it or not. So don't be upset about this, it's going to happen again, but everything is going to be okay, I know that. And if you want to trust them again, do it, if you don't want to, well don't be afraid to be human and hurt others as well. Do whatever you want to, while you can. I'll be here with you no matter what you choose to do.
                                                 
         ­                                         Sara Leal
                                                           ­                                      01/02/18

You were not "everything to me" after all.

"Are you alright?"

They ask as they see me crying in that corner,

I lift my head,

I try not to tremble.

And I answer,

"Yes".

They go away.

With that words.
**I almost believed you.

To: You
From: Me

Open this letter when you feel like crying~
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Crying is the best way to let out some pain of old and new scars. So cry everything you have to, so you can heal some more, and keep going straight, even when the tears are an unpleasant sea that you think you can't handle.
                                                   Sar­a Leal
                                                           ­                                      17/01/18

I thought you were different.
*You just made sure I was wrong.

In this world,

In this life,

I learned so much.

I learned that I can't trust everyone.

I learned that who wants doesn't fight, resists.

I learned that I don't even know myself.

I learned that there are things that simply are not worth of it.

I learned that pain is something that leaves scars.

But most of all I learned that it doesn't matter how much I learned I will always make the wrong decisions.

What will happen when I'm not enough for you?

1,
2,
3,
10,
16,
Today I smoked 16 cigarettes*.
Hmmm tomorrow I need to smoke more.

"Stupid life,
Stupid life,
Stupid life.
Ugh I want to **** someone.
Oh **** it I'm going to smoke." - me, every single second I'm not smoking.

I couldn't.

I wanted to not look at you,

But it was impossible for me.

And I still don't understand why,

Why you wanted me out of your life.

What did I do?

And why do I have to respect your decision?

Why is this happening with me?

It's killing me,

Not knowing it.

I feel frustrated,

And inside of me there's a pain that I don't know why I deserve it.

I'm sorry,

But I'm suffering and because of that,

I couldn't keep my eyes away from you.

I'm hoping that if I keep looking at you I can find my answers.

She's Rude.
She's Acting.
She's always Crying.
She has a Heavy heart.
She doesn't Exist.
She's a Lie.

Doing that for 2 weeks made me curious,
And frustrated.
"What's your name?"
I couldn't stop my mouth,
That was one of my mistakes.
You laughed with a cigarette in your left hand.
"Eugene."
I inhaled, I exhaled.

Maybe I'm just a frustrated woman who doesn't love in a normal way.

Love makes you do stupid things.
Love it's stupid by itself.**
So why do I want it so badly?

To: You
From: Me

Open this letter when you're craving for me to be by your side~
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
It doesn't matter where you're, or where you think you're, I'm always here with you, writing, loving, giving you my support in everything I can. I know it's hard sometimes, when you want to hold me at night, or when you want a hug after going through some rough moments, when you want to cry on my shoulder, or when you just want to feel my hand holding yours. I know it's hard. And sometimes the word hard is not even enough to describe it. It is the same for me as well, I feel it inside of me, all that pain you have, I mean how couldn't I? How could I not feel anything? I do feel it, Love I do know what it takes to handle it, I do know you. And I know you can do it, you know that. You know as well that while I'm alive, I'll stay with you, I'll write for you, I'll love you. I'm here. Just wait for me.
                                                 
         ­                                         Sara Leal
                                                           ­                                      08/02/18

I don't miss you.

I don't want to see you ever again.

I don't want anything of you in my life.

I forgot your name.

But I still love you and have memories of you in my mind.

Why?

Why* is it so hard to delete everything?

Why?

Because it happened and it's there,

And there's nothing I can do to delete it.

And the fact that I know it makes me frustrated,

I feel like crying.

Because I don't know what went wrong,

I don't know why, the simple why I still love you.

But not how I did before,

Because now it seems that it grows everyday.

And I would like to know,

Know why.

But I already know that this is one of those questions that don't have an answer,

Neither for me, or for him.

I don't breath air.
And if I do,
My air it's a mortal one.

"I smoke too you know."
That was the second time in just one week.
"*******."
It would have been better if I didn't say anything.

My life is a book.
**A blank one.

When I feel like crying,
I smoke.
When I feel frustrated,
I smoke.
When someone talks with me,
I ignore them and smoke.
When I realize my life it's useless,
I smoke.
I hate crying,
I hate feeling frustrated,
I hate when someone talks with me,
I hate my life,
But I love smoking.

You think I'm weak because I cry,

But you don't know the strength that's necessary to cry in front of you.

"You're loved."
Can I ask why?

I.
I,
I can't do anything to change myself.
I,
I have blood running in my veins.
I,
I have dreams.
I,
I have feelings.
I,
I have problems I can't solve.
I cry.
I laugh.
I write.
I'm real.
I'm just one of many.
Just something in the world.
But I'm me and that's what it really matters*.

How do I heal myself?
With my own words.
With my verses that could be not even verses.
With my poems.
I heal myself, writing.

Memories fade*,
Right?
Wrong.
My memories of you,
Didn't.

Sometimes my words aren't enough,
To describe how much I want you out of my life.