When people compliment me,
I feel a crisis of identity.
Was it I whom they were referring?
Or was it someone more fitting?
If I saw what they see,
Perhaps I wouldn’t be,
So self-deprecating,
Maybe…
If I saw what they see,
I could confidently,
Lower my walls and be me,
So much uncertainty.
I’m not one to accept compliments lightly,
I consistently convince myself that I’m not worthy,
Of their praise or their appreciation.
Cursed self-deprecation.
How could I accept such an honor,
When I look in the mirror,
And see,
Someone other than what they are praising?
If I saw what they see,
Perhaps I wouldn’t be,
Filled with anxiety,
About whether or not I’m being true to me.
And if I believed,
That I was what they see,
Maybe,
I’d feel happy…

am i the only stalking other people's lives?
checking their whereabouts, current engagement - basically their life now
am i the only one restricting myself from doing so but only ending up from clicking that **** account.
that **** photo.
that **** profile.
why am i so curious about their lives to the point that i always have that tiny split of moment where i think nothing but just them?
am i envious? i don't know.
am i wishing them bad? ofcourse not.
am i somehow comparing myself? i guess? i think so?
you see, it's a look in the past that's still passed on to present.
and right now.
but now.
remember this time, september 11, at this **** moment - eveything's erased in my system.
nothing but only for my growth, well-being. basically all about me.

and to those reading this right now, we got this. once out of your sight, it'll be out of your mind.

focus on oneself. focus on your own life. focus on your dreams as you always did. don't even blink an eye.

Lucky, lucky me
                                  self fulfilling prophecy

                     fear looks good on me

Who am I?
It’s life’s greatest question.
Life’s biggest quest.
We go through life with this feeling.
The feeling of needing to know
But not fully knowing what we are missing.
People become anxious,
Anxious of not knowing their purpose.
They become scared,
Scared they will never know.
But the reality is,
Life’s beauty is in the unknown.
The journey of finding your purpose.
So enjoy it.
Enjoy the unknown.
Enjoy the mystery.
Because in the end,
Whether big or small,
You make an impact on this world.

“it should be.”
being afraid --
it’s not a thrilling feeling,
not a rush,
not something
that anyone asks for.
it’s a heavy,
and eerie kind of silence.
not knowing what’s next,
who will speak,
who will leave,
when it ends --
or if it even will.
no one knows.

being afraid
feels like your insides
are twisting
trying to strangle themselves.

not butterflies --
but knots,
tight and mean,
it's your body sounding the alarms
in the only way it knows how.
a sickness that whispers,
“brace yourself,”
for something
that might not
even come.

my nose runs
Not cause I’m sick
It happens everyday
Because I pick

Dig my nails
Deep in my face
Leaving ****** holes
Looking a disgrace

my nose runs
Not cause I’m sick
It happens everyday
Because I light the wick

Pull some smoke
Leaves grown from hell
I’m an adult now
Who will you tell?

Crooked hoof, diagonal jog
We moved the tractors before the goat
when I wished that dam would clog
Pinball machines tip over
but when the point is to lean
Upside down, dripping clean

Put on a bubble and keep yourself alive
Scared it will pop and you’ll die
But yet you slam it,
into rocks,
walls,
stone,
slate,
and brick
The bubble will bend before bursting

They don’t know the numbers,
Loser
*****
Lia
Lazy
Lezzy
Lia

run
run
run --
run away as fast
as you possibly can.
get away.
get out of that place.

you don't know the
horrors of being there
like i do.

trust me,
and run.
run
run
run.
as fast as you can.

get away
before you
make it out
barely breathing.

covered in blood,
missing a limb,
open wounds,
a pounding headache,
a swollen ankle --
just run no matter
what it takes.

you don't understand
the horror
like i do.