that feeling you get when you see others living in the moment
you’re there in this moment, but not the focus of it
on the sidelines, you’re like a ghost
you aren’t part of the moment, but you contribute to its existence

like a side character, you don’t interfere
watch as the main characters make the moment clear
you don’t dare to step past the invisible boundaries, fearing you’ll ruin the moment

like a camera, you catch the moment, but you aren’t part of it
it’s like a coming of age movie, except you’re the extra with one line

people say you’re the main character, but you know that isn’t true
the main character doesn’t watch from a bench
the main character doesn’t swipe through stories of friends
the main character doesn’t stand under a roof as people play in the rain

you’re the side character, and you know it
you’re the side character, just living through the moment

isn’t just something you just do
it’s something you feel
living isn’t just living
its kinda confusing

living is knowing you have the next day, and the next, and the next
living is almost like you forget you’re actually alive, because you feel invincible

living is more than just existing
it’s that rush of adrenaline you get
your lungs breathing in that familiar scent
it’s the tears you cry,
the laughs you laugh

living isn’t always easy
most people just live to survive
live to get by
but wouldn’t you rather live to feel alive?

I'm not gullible, you know.
I know second chances
are just excuses.
I know I have to stop counting the stars for those
who wouldn't even stay up to see them glow.
I know.

I can't keep breaking myself to fit their template,
to make them feel perfect.
I know I need to start burning bridges
with the match that has always stayed unlit through my temperance.
I know.

I need to stop looking through rose-colored lenses.
I always hoped that when I took them off,
nothing would change.

But maybe it's good that
I finally see what has really been in front of me.

are something that I have learned to hide.
Seen as a weakness to my parents, seen as too sensitive.
Grow up, you aren't a baby anymore.
Stop crying, you have everything.

Bottled up inside me I learned to control them.
I learned to ignore them
every time they threatened to burst.
Tears are a luxury we all take for granted.

I've grown to accept this part of me,
grown to accept that tears aren't the enemy.
A part of me will always whisper to myself,
grow up, stop being a baby.

But in the end, we all shed some tears.

I tell her.
That no one is going to listen to her problems.
That her words are just going to fall onto deaf ears.
That it's better just to bottle up her feelings.
That she is better off imploding in one herself,
than to detonate in a world that isn't ready for her.
That she was never meant to be in this world.

That no one will listen.
That no one will listen.
That no one will listen.

And she's only wasting her time climbing up a never-ending mountain.
It's the only thing keeping her going,
keeping her from leaving.

Her sadness dares to become a monster
whispering lies into her ear but she shushes it quiet
Because this is her battle. And no one can hear the breaking of her heart anyway.

Praying that someone's out there,
Praying that someone cares,
Praying that someone can take the pain away.

She holds out her heart one last time,
hoping I was believing some stupid delusions

But she just disappears into nothingness

Her heart was too pure for this world.

Don’t you get it?
I can’t stop
I can’t stop running it through my mind
Replaying moments every time
I’ve tried once, I’ve tried a thousand times
I can’t just stop

Don’t you think I’ve tried?
Every piece of advice is just adding salt to my wound
Cheer up, snap out of it, relax
Like I’ve never tried giving myself the chance

So understand,
My mind isn’t like yours
No matter how hard I try
The thoughts just seem to multiply

I can’t stop
I can’t snap out of it
All I ask is for you to understand it