Was she desperate?
Like a fragile glass her heart is,
So transparent of what she feels,
She feels like she was...
In a wide landscape of forlorn,
Holding a rose with full of thorns,
Looking for diamonds in the dirt,
Lost in an aesthetic place where she never fits.

She was hurt but she adored him,
She have learned to love the pain,
After all, she has felt pain greater than love in her life.

Blindfolded with rejections and lack of appreciation,
But still she chose to stay.

Was she desperate?
She was.

I used to dance, yes,
In front of a crowd, I couldn't care less.
A poem in which every movement is a word,
and each motion is an emotion shared.

But everything has changed,
when I started to listen to the painful remarks backstage.
A wave of embarrassment,
everything became an impediment.

Seems like they're slowly pinning me down,
all the confidence had just drowned,

and so I stopped dancing around.

Staring at a blank space,
Physically tired,
Mentally awake,
Lost in your own facade world,
A perfect escape from reality,
A place where no one can hurt you,
No one can judge you,
No one can make you cry.

No one, but yourself.