I wake up at 4 am with my mind and all that is in it erased.

I stay there for 5 minutes.
Then my memory comes back to me and it leaves me wondering if I'm actually alive or dead.

Have I lost myself?
I don't feel like I'm living in my body.
I'm not myself.

I'm stuck.
Other see my figure walking but it's not my own.

I'm struggling.
To keep myself controlled.
To speak when I want to.
To feel what I should feel.

I'm at war with my own mind.
Please don’t waste your love on me.
I'm unworthy.
I'm not belittling myself.
But I'm not capable of it yet.

It aches.
My heart doesn't fit it’s cage.

My body is not my own.
I don't know who I am.

But I'm living until my bones dry out.

Recognize the body in the mirror and apologize.

Apologize to those weak arms for holding weaker bodies.

To those bloodshot eyes looking into blank souls.

For your chapped lips kissing blades.

Apologize to your cold skin for trying to be warmed up by burnt out fires.

How can you not shed a tear when your mother is sobbing in front of you?

When you have never seen her cry before you.

What else could you do expect to hold her in your arms, assuring her that it will all be all right.

When you know deep down in your dried out soul that things will never be.

It's strange to see the strongest human being you've ever knew crumble before you.

Surrendering to the demons that you once knew.

I've never held my mother fearing that she would smell the reeking body of cigarettes.

Now I realize how much of a fool I was.

I haven't shed a tear, yet.

But my mind is set.

I have gotten rid of the guilt.

Because my mind is set, I will never stand still any more.

Your tough upbringing does not justify your actions or disrespect towards me.

I am not to blame.

You look at me with pity, your words are spitting out mockery.

I'm saddened by what you believe.

I tried to believe what you believe.

But I'm not you, I will never be you, I don’t want to be you.

You’re blinded by the truths behind my wall of lies.

You’re weak and you need someone to control.

I'm merely your living breathing  journal, I'm leaving you in despair.

If you were mine your papers will easily turn to ashes.

You are ignorant and unaware.

You are not to blame.

You had your fair share of tragedies.

I will spend my lifetime not telling you what I am.

Your expectations, I won’t live up to.

I am what you don’t want me to be.

I'm protecting you from my mistakes.

I'm an impostor and time is my enemy, as someday all of me will unfold.

Days merging with nights.

Spending an eternity in a waking dream.

Stars shadowing the sun.

Moonlight showers us.

We’re drenched in shivers.

We’re breathing.

Filling our lungs, getting high on the night’s sky.

We are awake.

We are dreaming.

I take my tea with drops of melancholy.

A cigarette between my exhausted fingers.

I remember the day you wished that I was dead and you're the only one who saved me from the jaws of the hungry wolves.

I was a cowedly sheep stained with hatred and dowsed with remorse, waiting for anger to burn me up.

I had no idea I was living with the beast.


My soul is an inch away from non-existence.

The soles of my feet are decaying and I'm weak.

The fire is gone and I wonder what you'll do with my remaining ashes.


I will remain sinful and insane.

I still will remain regretful and tired.

I remain sculpting better strangers than my own loved ones.

Yes, I will remain living with the beast.

No, I won't come to you any more as my saviour, feeding me bowls of guilt.

I remember dreading afternoons with empty stomachs.

Where we’re forced to be in each other’s faces and shove our mouths with lies and stop ourselves from breaking out the truth.

The truth that we’d rather suffer through wars within than find peace in each other.

The truth that we've gotten skilful in reconstructing our masks among others.

We've gotten ugly and our eyes will never meet.