Scared of my own past
  Now I can't really look back
  Memories were bad
Don't remind me now
  For I have decided that
  I should look forward

I...
I'm .. I.. I'm sorry
please forgive me.
I don't know what I've done
but I think I broke you.
and I understand your life is a roller coster
and that Sometimes existing is too much of a weight to bear
And I get the fact your walk in closet Is  stuffed to the brim with
the skeletons of your past
And I understand. that those useless bags of flesh and bones keep trying to come back to life
and crawl out of the back door and into your mind
but I cant help feel that im to blame,
And I know im not..
but I think I broke you
and I know my well timed excuses threw a spanner in the  tracks of your roller coster
but I thought i was going o.k.
And I know the grip i have on you isn't deadly...
but ive realised that you are nowhere near mine..
you can walk away at any moment and im still the one at fault.
but I love  you
you cought me in both arms when The only other option was to land on my  face
so please dont let me fall now
all This time i thought you where a porcelain doll..
who knew i was made of craft paper

I am rejected by society
I am out of place when I am near people
I am called ugly by others
I am called weird by people who don't know me
I am called useless, worthless, a speck of dust lying on the floor, waiting to be thrown from garbage can to garbage can
Reality is now slipping from my fingers like a picture that is made of smoke
How should I last when my body is so weak that I may crumble away?

In the rain of my own tears I always go through
Without any umbrella or rain coat
I don't even know why I am still alive
Problem after problem, the pain never goes away
How do I even last through this awful storm?
Yet, it never floods, the rain just keeps pouring down
Down and right into my very soul
My soul that has been fed up for too long
Can no longer hold the sadness and pain that I've been hiding
My smiles are just fake, you see
I always wear a mask with a bright smile painted onto it
But, behind the mask, my cheeks are always wet because of the never-ending flow of my tears

People always ask me why I seem so sad when I am quiet
It's funny, really, on how you guys don't even know even if the answer is right there
The tears forming in my eyes, is the answer
No, they are not tears of joy, you idiot
Are you that stupid like an early human being from long ago?
Look at me. Crying right in front of your eyes yet you can't even sense it!
I am slipping quietly into the hole of eternal darkness
No, not eternal darkness, but oblivion

The reason why I am always feeling like this behind the mask that I wear
Is because you people told me that I cannot be more
How insenstive you creatures are!
Just because you are popular doesn't mean that you can bully right away
Just because you are older doesn't mean that you have the right to say that to me
You are starting to make me feel like a canvas waiting for its painter to paint life and color in to me
I feel so blank
I feel so ******
I feel so sad
Everything that I'm seeing right now is starting to turn grey, black and white
The colors of sadness, I call them
Because I am a book that is full of unnecessary writings that covers the content of my life
I am now called 'untitled'
For people didn't know which insult to go by me whenever I pass them at the corridors

as small as i am to the world
i thought that the stars above me
saw me as a petty person as well
yet something inside me told me, "no"
these twinkling lights
that are not really in the color of white
reminded me to keep shining brightly

then i wished to be among the stars
to soar above the sky
to be with them as i wished
that gravity will reverse
so that i may touch the sky
don't forget the oxygen too
so that i may live to see the stars up close, with my very eyes

yet, the stars are only ***** of fire that have died a million years
as people say that those how my dreams and ambitions look like
from shades of orange to blue they are colored
yet i still wish to see them
they are dead like your dreams. someone once told me
how can you say that to a kid like me?

even if they are non-living things
they soothe me in the midst of the equilibrium of darkness
they are here for me
to lift up my mood, it is what the stars can do
yet i stand on the ground
looking up desperately while reaching to the sky
what is it that i can do to make me fly?

i sigh, not only because i know that i can't literally fly
but because i didn't know any other way to do so
then the sole of my shoes crunch beneath the ground
i felt myself walking towards my home
before i went it, i looked up to the sky
i breathe in and out before whispering to it
*i want to be the first to soar among you freely

My imagination always running
Yet can never be put on paper
Where have my ideas gone?
Where has my inspiration disappeared?
It feels like my mind is just a static
Quiet, awkward, eerie
I can grab a pen
Yet I can never write down the words that I want
I am not an artist
Nor am I a person to even write down this poem
What does one look for in a work of art anyway?

Am I just putting myself down?
Or am I just really not meant to be a writer?
My blank mind
My blank papers
Scattered
All over
My bedroom
My trash is, piling up with drafts
Scribble, scribble
Then throw
What a waste, what am I doing?
Should I still use this talent of mine?
Or do I just think that it's a talent?

I feel like 'The Thinker'
Always indecisive
Always hesitant
Always...thinking
Never...doing
I look at the people around me
And see that they are better than me
My world slowly turning black and white
Like the color of the music sheet and piano keys
Yet, why do I always bring myself down?
I will never know the answer of my very own question

I'm still here
Thinking, thinking, thinking
I want an idea to hit me like a storm
Yet my brain doesn't seem to work
A static it truly is, my brain
In my bedroom you will see
My blank mind yet full of imagination
Scattered along with blank papers

What happens in a year
May quite be so queer
Yet the events that I can't forget
Are in the colors of a painting palette

Yet there is this person who never
Managed to at least get mad at me, like ever
A person older than me
Who now made it easy for me to see

To see the things people never thought about life
Yet the attitude he always displays is always blithe
He is a master of mine who thought me many
So that I may overcome any

Here I am grieving for him to stay only now
As I silently curse myself while I beg as I bow
Please remain here with me
Because with you, I feel so free

But yet you want to leave to let yourself fly
So... Here is my hello and my goodbye...
I will miss you so
Please take care of yourself so you may not go down low