Hands that are used to create beauty no longer hold the same passion.
Lingering in my mind are memories and thoughts which have no more use.
I can see in the corner of my periphery a window which shines a bright day.
Maybe today there is more weight in the everyday life I choose to consistently throw away.
From my *****, mussed bedsheets I only see the wall and a phone screen which I use as much as I breathe.
This is living I decide as I discard whatever pride I used to have.
The same songs played on a day that has repeated too many times for comfort.
A vacancy is where my mind lives.

There is a certain emotion in my mother's eyes I am used to.
It drips off her lips and reaches everyone in distance of her.
Sometimes when I glance in the mirror I can see it reflected in my bloodshot eyes.

In my dreams, there is a girl with brown eyes.
I know who she is, she was once in my math class.
In my mind's eye, I still retain her face even all these years later.
I never recall having a conversation with her.
All we had was eye contact.
I  would stare, she would stare; I like to believe it was a two-way experience.
At one point, I started to fall.
My daydreams and nights were filled with her bold eyes.
I loved the way she would face things head-on.
Soon enough I started to create scenarios of us together.
I went insane with the thought of her because I knew that was the only way I would ever have her.
Being in the closet was comfortable in a suffocating way.
I could exist in my own garden without anyone knowing but it was such a lonely existence.
The more I hid the more I became sick with envy.
She was out in the open while I hid in terror.
Even now I still wonder how things would have changed if I had taken a chance.
Furtive glances are not worth much if a step is never taken.
I sit here thinking about a one-sided story that will always stay in the past.
What good is it if I never learn?

I have a daydream in my mind.
It replays nonstop in my mind and has become a guilty habit of mine to revel in as my family lives on so blissfully unaware.
Many times I daydream of what if I was to erase myself from this life, I know it is a sign of depression but I have no other way to cope and manage this mania.
Many other times I daydream of leaving my current life, packing my bags and never looking back as the few people who care about me wonder where I am.
I am so guilty of so many selfish thoughts.
I know if I were to reveal how impure I am I would be turned away from and receive false pity.
So I want to be a coward and run away from what ails me.
I know it will leave unresolved problems no matter what dream I choose but I can not help but live a hypocritical life this way.
To erase is what I dream.

Over the course of the years, I have discovered many things; most bad but the occasional good things make me smile for a minute.
Although I have gained a bit, I feel like I have lost more.
I remember thinking to myself that with time everything will be clear and I won't have to cry myself to sleep anymore or fear myself when I am in a closed, vacant room.
At 14 I understood that time will be a blur and I will have no time to prepare myself.
Even so, life had to get better; I had to get better.
The future is unknown yet lovely.
In the past, I was allowed to have dreams, expectations.
Anything was possible as long as I worked hard; your dreams will not accomplish themselves, but you can work towards them.
What a plan.
What an idealistic plan.
Plausible.
Possible.
I could.
They never said I can't.
I built up a tower; It was knocked over, not everything lasts.
I have nothing to look forward to.
Routine.
Boring routine.
A blank face in the mirror, is that really me?
There is nothing, I can't console you or fix you.
I can only say, "I'm sorry I failed you."

There are moments when I let go.
My words become unhinged and I do not worry about what I say or how little I say.
I do not curl up into myself wishing to disappear.
I speak and I do not regret, time does not seem to exist anymore and I am free, I am alive, I am living, I do not fear; I truly exist.

I have an unanswered message.
Actually, not just one, the number has been growing these days.
I am the proud yet hurt owner of an empty inbox.
If I were to have a message I know it is just spam.
I never check, I stopped having hope years ago.
As friends left I knew it was futile to expect a message.
After all I became just another second thought.
In the furthest corners of the few people minds, I reign there.
But sometimes I manage to have a few seconds of glory and I receive a message.
I answer back, immediately with excitement.
I wait and I wait and I wait.
As months pass I know, it will always remain another unanswered message.