the lies that
i spread
around this
hopeless
little
world
are more than
just words

i hate how
i can
easily spread
lies to gain power
yet i become
blind to
what will
happen
to my friends

i have lived in vain

dont touch me
the world nor you doesn't deserve me
i'm as stupid as can be
so let me fall
to where
i belong

i hate living for my own

i am so insensitive
secrets are these
they can
be lies
they can be
a person
a place
yet
can slip from our
mouths and
through our
actions

up to this day, i don't know why i'm still alive

forgive me for destroying you

you lied to me, idiot
you told me that we would play songs together
you told me that you would play with me
for the last time in your life
before you truly left me *behind

under the petals of the cherry blossoms
i was just a friend of yours who seemed so ordinary
a person who just wrote scores to a music sheet
whose fingers haven't touched a piano in years
stuck in the past of his horrible memories

you keep bugging me for canelés
you keep hitting me with your shoe
you keep pestering me to keep practising
i hate the way you see me as just a friend
but i really don't know what made me love you

you hid a secret from me at the start of april
henceforth, i was able to know about it
to know about it by seeing it without warning
that you were at your last days during the winter months
your hand slipping from consciousness, losing its grip

these music sheets i was never able to grasp for long
you gave them back to me, the energy that i've lost
to play the music full of words and expression
for i truly cannot be good with my own words
but through sounds, i can reach your heart

for the last time, i played, i played out for you
my heart pouring its feelings onto the piano
as if it was my very own, indulged to its melody
you face before me one last time with your violin
before i knew it, you left me with tears streaking down my cheeks

*you may be an idiot, but i love you very much

mischief and such wit
  moony, wormtail, padfoot, prongs
  they're the marauders
and when the job's done
  wave your wand and just say this
  'mischief managed!' done
cleverness present
  but wasted on breaking rules
  yet used for the fun

I open my eyes and
see that the day has given me
a dull grey attitude again because of
the depression that I hide
from within, a smile to go along with it
to avoid the questions that people ask
that always seem to hurt.

These scars that hide behind
my long-sleeved shirts or the sleeves
of my jacket, are the marks of when
I couldn't handle life anymore.
Yet, I am always persistent, even if I am
already hopeless, worthless and pained.
I still hold on even if I've been doing that for long.

I am a soldier who fights my demons alone.
A battle with a pre-determined winner yet,
I should try to manage not to lose.
I wear a mask to hide the tears that
I always shed every second of the day.
And, even if I always fight back,
the monster that fights me, always comes back.