i reached out my hand and thought i was helping. I wanted to help.
i am so sorry for stuffing beliefs in your mouth, into your eyes, that you would be annoyed to see the blue-lined paper slipped in your mail box.

i just wanted to show that i care.
i didn't mean to scratch your surface.
i didn't mean to stir and twist.

please forgive me.
i didn't mean to cut and steal.
i wanted to heal.

I write because—
A sudden pause.
Why do you write?
There is a reason to it right?

"For pain!" they might say,
"For fame!" cries another.
"For glory!" they might argue
"For defeat." some would bother.

Why do you write?
A student giggled, "For class to be dismissed."
"Oh because you exist." A romantic chanted.

The metaphors you paint vividly,
letters and punctuations you bring closer.
What urges you to bring into existence,
Works of art from bleeding hearts.

Why do you really write?

because I feel, yet they tell me I am numb
because I learn, yet they show me I am dumb
They tell me I should change my mind,
As I am only wasting my time.

I write because...
there's a thousand reasons that I shouldn't but a million more that tells me I should.

Melting flesh falling into place.
Calling out different words.

Two minds, two different eyes.
I see you differently.
How you changed your heart towards my soul.
How you changed your attitude towards this seemingly always happy home.

You were worried and you kept your mouth shut.
You pat my back gently and asked me if I was okay.
When I was okay, you shot bullets at me.

Are you scared of caring?
Scared of showing the soft kind heart within?
I know it because when you morphed, your heart shone through the tissues of your body....I saw it.
It was beautiful...

I don't recognize
That person anymore
Not the laugh
The face
The dress
Or the way they look
And talk
And walk
I don't recognize the smile
On their face

The eyes
Once so bright
And full of hope
Now look so empty
And lost

But no one can see that
They only see what
They want to see
Not the truth
They only care about
What you can see
In the mirror

My body somehow knows
The grief tomorrow holds.
I ache and throb
But I cannot sob;
The urge to cry
Stings my eyes.
My feet drag heavily
In the depths of this valley.
Every year without fail
I remind myself I am too frail.
"You're strong without the numbers,"
Yet I was too weak to pull you from your slumber.
Each March 22nd
Feels just like the 1st end,
When your heart stopped beating
And mine started bleeding.
I'd skip this whole day
But I'd miss the chance to say:
I miss you, lovely little hurricane.
It's all I can do to keep sane.
The smell of mint
Hurts just a hint.
The skinny jeans and hair bows
I could never disown.
I wear your effect  
On my forearm *****.
The pain of loss is akin
To etching you into my skin.
My hands shake with cold,
Though not as cold as a headstone.
Oh, how my body knows
The grief tomorrow holds.

Capture the night
in one deep breath.

Allow the eyes to map
what swells in the heart.

Capture life...
Be wary not of thorns that *****.

Allow the love to bridge the gap,
even when apart.

If evil is
The default state
Then good is only
A byproduct
Of evil
Which life
Works
To create

most people see me as
a happy person because
i laugh easily,
i smile a lot,
i joke a lot.

but deep down
in my heart,
i am fragile,
i can get hurt easily,
but i choose to not
show it to the world.

instead of being sad,
i choose to laugh to cover it.
maybe you can call me
"the queen of the mask"

by this,
you can tell
that most of the time
when I'm laughing,
I'm not really laughing,
i was trying so hard to hide
my sadness.

it's been so tough for me,
every single day i asked myself,
"when will this end?"
"am i going to live like this forever?"

every single day
i've been holding it all,
by myself.

i don't know until when,
but when the time comes,
i hope they won't be sad.