When she first saw him, he came fearless wearing red
She was uncomfortable, in her usual black
And by that
Anyone could say they didn't match

Although they got along
It was clear that something would go wrong
A mischievous boy
Falling for a broken heart girl
Who would dare to believe that from it
A love could grow?

The girl didn't know how bad this boy could get
And she had confidence to let him in
Like with somebody else she never had

He stabbed a knive at her back
While saying "I love you,"
"I don't know why you always so sad"

One day the girl realized that she didn't deserve to be treated that way
She wasn't able to save him from his demons
'Cause he wanted to be bad anyway

Didn't take long
To the boy realize he was wrong
And so he got hit by the epiphany of all the bad things he had done
All the pain he caused, he felt in his own guts

And with this sad ending
They part from each other
Now the broken hearted,
As so deserved, was him

I love you but,
I will make you jealous and cry
I will make you feel weak,
Crazy,
Insecure,
Unbareable but,
I love you

i kept putting myself in places different than mine
curious, living it inside my mind

i imagined myself getting hit by a car
instantly becoming a shooting star
i imagined myself jumping off a cliff
where no one else could see
i imagined myself bleeding through deep cuts
at last pouring out my guts
i imagined myself getting shot
in peace with no overthoughts
i imagined myself being loved
as my self love evolves

the last one made me cry
'cause it was the farest of what was mine

I only eat yellow foods
because maybe if I swallow a little bit of sunshine
it'll chase away the storm

you touch her

undress her

you see through her

what frightens her

you take what you need

then

you leave

How many masks do I have in my collection
until someone realises something is off?

How long does the party go on until
everyone goes home, strips off
and sees that not everything is
as lovely, as majestic as how
the lights, decorations and music
made it out to be?

How many more superhero costumes
are made until they save me, from me?

-m.b

‘to die is different from what anyone supposed, and luckier’
i think about death everyday.
frightened by it,
intrigued by it
i cannot escape it.
i have seen what it can do,
an endless hunt after
anything that lives.
constantly wondering when
will i be marked?
when will i
be hunted
by them.
others embrace it.
death to them is a
blessing.
but how can someone see something so
frightening
something so
powerful
how could they see it as
beautiful?
how could they actually
want that?
there is so much to life--
yet so much more to death.
it is said that
how one dies, shows how one
lived.
and that those who run from death
stood still in
life.
what will my death say about me?
what will it say about how i wasted my life
with pools of sparkling tears
and butterflies that once sat in my stomach
pouring out of my mouth?
would people know that i
stood still?
i think about death every single day that i
live.
every day that will pass
every second every minute every
year.
every tear. every breath.
every sight. every look.
every beat of my heart.
every drop of blood coursing through my veins
every word i speak every
thought i think
i will think about death
i will run from death.
wishing that someday i can
embrace the beauty of it.
but until then, (if it ever even comes)
it will continue to be
run run run
chase chase chase
filled with fear and anxiety
waiting for them
as they lurk in the shadows of life
watching, perhaps laughing
at my fear of them at my
racing thoughts of
when why and
how