you were raised to not let anyone
steal your independence from you
if he truly loved you
he would not expect you
to be less than yourself

❝  ❞

“ Ｈｏｗ  ａｒｅ  ｙｏｕ? ”
            s/he asked.

So, I answered

“ I'm

       B R  O  K E  N
       E
       T
       R
       A N X I O U S
       Y
       E
       D

                L
                O

                N
                E
                L
                Y

       N           E   V
       E      R              G  
       O  O                     D
       E                           N
       O                           U
       G                           H

                F     R     U
          S                        T
        R                            A
       T                              E
       D     F      R      A     G
       I
        L
         E
            D   Y    I    N    G


Sorry for not telling the truth
I just don't want you to worry.
I would rather choose to keep it
Deep inside me.

Artists are often
broken people
using the fragments of themselves
to create something new
and although
being healed
feels so complete
sometimes i want to be broken again
sometimes i want open wounds
so i can use the blood
to paint sunsets
so i can use the torn off pieces of skin as a canvas
so i can carve
masterpieces with the jagged bones left behind
but I can't bring myself to break my own heart in the name of Art

Today I've realized the weight of the word someday
It's empty
It has no hope
It's painful

It's the worse kind of torture
For an innocent soul.
It's not today
Tomorrow
Or the next day
It's someday