Sigh,
Why must I be dealt with this tragic,
My heart whimpers while my mind spirals,
You know he does not belong and yet you trapped him in me with lock and chains so he cannot escape this dreaded pain.

He does not belong,
So why must he stay,
He does not want to see me and you keep him astray,
He hates,
He does not see,
So why do I have to have these anxieties.

My intuitions are telling me so many different things,
Cannot tell which one is telling me the truth or if it’s feeding me lies upon my plate,
While I scrape the leftover feelings that’s slowly slipping away,
Deep down I want him to stay but I know,…
I know I must let him go.

To my hand, to the pen I grab up,
To the paper my thoughts starts to write,
My eyes glued, unemotionally focused,
To the words that climbing out of my thought process

All my words wants to scream and shout,
That I end up keeping wayyy deep inside.
No one would let me speak my mind,
It’s always a block or a run or hide.
All my words wants to scream out loud,
But who’s willing to listen to me at this time.
Instead of waiting for a response from someone, I’d rather keep them all deep inside and just live my life.
All my words are all locked and kept,
Inside my head, they yell.
If I don’t get them out I’ll suffocate,
So I say them through text and let it all bleed out.
My real self, that’s stuck on a piece of paper that would rather stay there than to speak with her mouth full of inspiration.

My lungs are deep & shallow,
My breathing still can’t follow.
My heart cracks in mysterious rows,
My eyes sees all but they definitely aren’t hollow.
As they fall off one by one, another is built in its place,
Except this heart is made out of steel, as my eyes are filled with your face,
and my mind but a name only my soul can reframe,
That you might be one of my other lost lace that’s the color of a red string that was once lost in all my daydreams.

I love art,
I like history…
I love museums and the galleries,
I like dancing,
I love music,
I love it here but…
I loved it there

These stones are too thick,
    Not even my knuckles that pounded on them made even a hint or a scratch,
   Even the blood stains that marked me left me screaming out…
But what’s that going to do if no one out there can hear my shouts