It was the kind of hurt where your tears were falling silently. Your eyes eyeing the ceiling and being unable to think of anything- and those silent sobs you left- that was the proof you were hurting.



And no- it was not that kind of hurt, not yet. It was that kind of hurt where you were left wondering about the things you've done. That kind of hurt where you've locked yourself out inside a cubicle and cried. That kind of hurt where you feel like swimming in the icy waters and feeling yourself go numb.



And no- that was not all. You've only seen that small tip of an iceberg- not the dept.

With each that falls,
I relive an old pain,
I feel a new sorrow.
The same suffering,
A different agony.
An endless loop,
A momentary relief.

Emotions build up inside
but I can't cry today.

Emotions build up inside
but I don't know why.

Emotions build up inside
but I can't feel happy.

Emotions build up inside
but I don't explode.

Emotions build up inside
but I can't die now.

my mother would say,
"Some people are moon
of a haunted night,
but child never forget
you're the wildflower
that grows without any light.

you shall grow,
you will grow,
you must grow
You must fight
to become the light
of the haunted night".

she runs barefoot
through the forest
her braid kissed by
the brush of the wind
sunlight dances on
her almond skin
shes an etheral beauty
of the wild.