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Andrew Choo Nov 2018
Would you like me to keep checking in everyday, or less so? I know that it gets annoying sometimes. I don't know. It's such a struggle to communicate how I feel. I don't know how to express myself. My thoughts. The constant battle within my head. Just let me know, y'know? If I'm getting over-the-top, just tell me to cut it out. I apologize. I'm sorry if I take things too far. It's just my paranoia. My overthinking. My social anxiety. My fear of being alone, yet that desire to just be left alone. I don't know. Everything's just so overwhelming. Sometimes, I check in, and hope that you'd do the same, but if you're busy, it's okay, I guess. I don't know. Life is just a struggle, y'know? The struggle to just be -- to move, and think, and speak, and breathe, and just process everything. Sometimes, it's like I just want to be done with life. Done with everything. And I just don't know what to do. I don't know what to say. I want to say something, but I can't. You know? I want to say that I'll be there for you, or that I have certain feelings for you, or that I care for you, or that I wholeheartedly want the best for you. But I just can't. There's a setback in my mind that backfires everything. I don't know anymore. Just let me know that you want me to stop checking in, or not so often. I'm sorry in advance, I guess. That fear of social approval and social judgement, and just not being good enough. It's just so hard to see what's right or wrong in a certain context or circumstance. If I act aggressive or suicidal, I'm sorry for making your life difficult. It's just hard to be. You know, sometimes, I feel like no one really sees me. It's like I'm invisible. I feel like I'm so alone. Like I know I have friends, but it's like they're so busy, and I don't wanna be a bother to them. I'm sorry if I am. I'm sorry if I failed your expectations. I'm sorry if I wasn't there for you. Because you're all I really have. And I just want the best for you.
I want to trust.
But I can't.

I want believe.
But I don't.

I want the truth.
But I am scared of it.

I want to love.
But I don't know how.
  Nov 2018 Andrew Choo
Jade Welch
You cannot heal me
for I am not a broken soul.
My spirit carries heavy burdens
but my colours never dull.

Pointed torches in my face
this light, it hurts my eyes.
I was led alone, I sobbed
thinking no one heard my cries.

I smile in the face of the enemy
and laugh in the face of a friend.
It is not that I am lying
but that I must pretend.
Andrew Choo Nov 2018
They say that
I'm one of a kind.
You can only find
One of me.
This body, it
Thinks on its own.
This mind, it
Works alone.

Nothing makes sense anymore.
Living off dollars and cents,
These streets don't have
Much to offer.
If you're a copper,
It's my time to flee.
Why can't you leave me?
It's already hard to just be.
Difficult to live,
Move and breathe.
I feel like I'm drowning.

Voluntary Apnea:
The choice to not breathe.
A lack of oxygen
To the brain that
Causes a sensation
Of darkness
Closing in
From all sides.

They say that they’re
Here for the ride.
They don’t realize that
My pride is
At stake.
This smile
This laugh
This glimpse of hope.
It’s all fake.
I’m barely holding on
This rope,
Getting tighter by the minute.
In this world,
I don’t fit.
I gotta admit,
This life, it ain’t for me.
It’s so hard to commit.
It hurts so hard to just be.

I feel like
I’m wasting time.
My past,
Full of crimes.
Gotta climb
These mountains,
More losses than wins.
It’s so hard to just exist.
It’s not like I’ll be missed.
I’ll just be dismissed.

They say that
Silence is hard to come by.
So are good friends.
Because no message is
Still a message.
Relationships are a blessing,
But noise is a curse.
Life *****, but
I’m worse.
Let’s not deny the facts,
I watch your reacts,
The way that you see me,
But don’t acknowledge it.
It’s like you see the Holy Ghost,
But don’t wanna submit.
They say to defy the odds,
Prove the demons wrong,
Stick with the squads.
But I don’t belong.

You tell me that
I'm not lonely.
Feel free to show me.
Life's a show,
I go toe-to-toe with
This utopian reality;
Fatal vitality.
Why's everything gone bad?
Why am I going mad?
Show me what's right;
Show me the light.
that feeling of wanting to be left alone, but having the fear of being alone
  Nov 2018 Andrew Choo
Raven
He writes poetry
But no one knows

He writes poetry
He writes about love
And loss

He writes about smiles
And frowns

He writes about sorrow
And forgotten towns

He writes about how lost he gets
Caught up in his own mind

He writes poetry to
And about others

But no one knows

Know one knows the depth of his soul
Because they all choose to see the exterior
And that exterior screams

Preppy
And preppy
Don't have souls

Or so they thought
Until the day he was consumed
By his own poetry
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