There are heavy words inside me that papers can't hold.
My thoughts are muddled; ears will wince if they are told.

I've become rage; love to hate peace.
1 am grief, my pain has been polished to slit my wrist.

In darkness i dwell, where my regret hunts me
The light i desire but all hope seems to sink
Yet, in the depth of despair, a spark i feel A yearning to heal.

I begin to wonder why we fall in love.
Is it really a trend to break our souls and expect another to kiss our wounds?
Why do we fall in love—is it to learn how to heal or just to have a story to tell?
We all fell when we were children; we learned how to walk and run better.

So why do we fall in love if we are always going to stay broken?
Why don’t we grow in love, nurture the heart yet to be intertwined,
So we can bloom together?

Like scorpions crawling on my skin, jealousy befriends me; stinging at every cost as the mention of another’s name leaves your lips.

For what space am I afraid might be taken?
Taken by a bold one who shows true intentions, or taken by the one you call a friend?
But, a friend is what I am too.

It beats hard, and I am ashamed of what I feel—
Feelings that I might love you more than you will ever know.