I'm sad.
But who would know?
I'm hurt.
Yet it doesn't even show.
I'm failing again.
I know, it really takes time to grow.
I'm disappointed.
But I'm still going with the flow.
I'm scared.
Though there's no time to say "No."
I'm weary.
But I shall not end the show.
I'm done.
But not yet about to go.
I'm in a rapid process of changes.
But I'm not afraid to go slow.
Well, I'm continuously learning.
Still, proud to have begun from below.

I've seen her a lot of times
just when I decided to forget you.
I've seen her downtown
just when I thought I got over you.
I've seen her pretty smiles
and I guess that's something for you.
I've seen her glimmering eyes
and I guess those eyes pulled you.
I've seen her looking at me
and I was trying to know what's in her mind.
I've seen her watching me
but I was trying to ignore her every time.
I've seen her, yes, but how I wish I didn't
as she thought I was feeling okay.
I just wish I never had the chance to see
*The reason why I'm still feeling this way.

I got the reasons in my hand
Had them figured out now and then
But when I try to let them lose
I can't seem to escape from my own blues
And this I'd like you all to know
Without the usual pretty flow
That some things, I know, will set me free
But not thy love in our written tragedy.

Have you been to my mind? Have you heard the sounds in my head?
I guess, not yet. Not ever. Who would dare? It's not even safer than hell.

Have you seen my scars? Have you felt that agonizing state my years have brought me into?
I guess, you won't. Not ever. Who'd want to see the gruesome nature of my weary soul?

Have you seen my tears? Have you tried to let a river flow down your frozen cheeks?
I guess, you haven't. Still, not ever. Who'd do a stuff that doesn't feel right for a usual individual?

Have you touched my hand? Have you searched for my pulse and found it dysfunctional?
I guess, you won't bother. Why ever? Who'd care touch a thing that wouldn't last forever?

Have you read my words? Have you read anything but my simple, pointless words?
I guess so, this time. But you won't give a dime. Mere words show nothing but something to base your prejudice on. Am I right?

You're reading my mind. You're seeing my scars. You're watching me cry. You're feeling me die. And I,
I am having my own time to let you know of my words. My words that may not matter to you or to me or to anyone right before this piece. But let me tell you of one thing: These words may cut our strings, but these are less than what I truly want to reveal about what I truly feel.

Let me not decay too soon
like a cadaver in the mouth of a cave
for a one-sided love affair
is enough to bring me to my grave.