If you can't let go easily,
maybe you should be the one to have your bags ready;
packed with a spare ticket on you.
If you can't stop looking at the door that was closed,
maybe you should not have built one
and lived all your life in a home
with no doors and windows.
If the same wound of yours,
bleeds and bleeds,
and the pain never stops
maybe you should not have showed up the points
where you're most vulnerable.
if your skin is paper thin, keeping nothing out,
but never confining your lights in,
maybe you should not have befriended storms
people exhaling fumes.
If you delve in the emotions too deep,
and get high on how low you feel,
maybe you should not have been a poet at all.
If you never wanted to be a contradiction,
of hopeful eyes, tired smiles and an empty heart,
maybe you should have never been born as a human.