"Can someone please give me anesthesia?
I would like to fall into an eternal sleep,
but just for a while,
until all my struggles expire.
And someone up there,
will remember
that he once created a girl,
with the mind of a lost bubble."

Growing up means becoming an adult,
atleast this is what they say
but if being an adult means being like them,
I’m not sure I want it.

My heart aches at the thought,
my eyes brim with tears
my inner child begs me to not

and

sometimes
the only thing you need to do in a life
is to heal your inner child

Look
look close enough
into the eyes
of people

They speak
stories
memories
and worries

Behind them
they hide seas
full of tears

Look into the eyes of someone
and you will know them -
just then

How do I know what is right?
How do I know when to act
when to argue
when to stay silent
and when not to

How do I know when to do it
and when to not

How do I know
when the right time to fight is?
How do I know what is right?
Does the feeling in my gut tell me?
Or the tears in my eyes?

"It will get better," they say,
but what if it doesn't?
What if I stay like this
until the end of my days,
trying to figure out,
what I should have already known?

And when you ask me how I feel,
I just answer
"A lot"

Follow your dreams
and don’t listen to others.
But how can I not listen
to the voices in my head
that are telling me
not to, not to, not to
do it?

My mind is at war with my heart,
and if it doesn’t stop, I swear,
it will tear me apart.

You are so smart,
you will figure it out.
But who should I listen to—
my mind or my heart?

Instead of lying on the couch for another hour,
I could have done more.
"‘You are turning into a cocoon,’
they laugh.

I could, I should,
but I never would.
I know myself too well.

I would rather offer my soul for sale
than leave my room—
four walls that have become my
safe haven... or a cage?

I know I should,
but I never will.
Am I too emotional for allowing myself to fear?

Because what if, when I leave,
my home disappears?
What if they forget
that I was once there?
What if they realize
that living without me
makes them happier?

Maturing is realizing that you’re no longer afraid of the dark,
But still longing to lie in bed beside your mom.

Maturing is realizing that your parents will one day be gone,
And it could be tomorrow, or in ten years,
And every word they speak could be their last.
Maturing is realizing that you, too, will one day be gone,
And you’ll never know when.

Maturing is staring out of the window for seven minutes at 3 a.m.
It is the feeling in your chest telling you to rest.
It’s crying once in a while.
It’s being scared,
But still wanting to be brave.

Maturing is living in uncertainty for the rest of your life.
Maturing is realizing that, even if you don’t know how, when, or why,
You’ll try to do your best.
And sometimes, that’s all you can do.

The only thing I am seeking in life
is the strength to overcome
each one of my fears.
Not to be scared.

But how can I,
when there is a knife
waiting for me
behind every corner?

It all started in my hometown,
laughing on a playground.
No one warned me about the older kids—
the ones who make your eyes cry,
destroy your toys,
and create your first fears.

Fear of losing, of being alone,
of failure, of being too much.

But the biggest of all,
is also the funniest of all,
and the saddest—
it is the allowing yourself to feel scared.

"Rest,
rest,
and let nature
do the rest."

Today I waved at someone,
but he didn’t wave back.
How tragic—
I thought he was the one.

What is the craziest decision you have ever made?