It’s not that tragic to leave;
Books still have words for us to read
Trees still grow when they plant a seed
Humans still walk without you on the lead.

It’s not that tragic to leave;
You will be facing a new life to live
Choose the sad adult or the happy kid
Whatever your decision is, it’s up for you to feed.

It’s not that tragic to leave;
Look at the night sky and you’ll still see stars
Look at your arms, there are healing scars
Look at the journal and you'll realize how much you got far.

I don't know what is worse:
Happy moments that can't be experienced again, or
The tragic memories we can't forget.

We don't hate the world we see,
we only loathe the society where no one can flee.
Ask for a cup of hot tea,
they'd judge you for not drinking a coffee.
Simple things, they'd make it as serious issues;
Serious matters, they'd pretend it doesn't exist.
Unknown people will always be ignored,
everyone knows their hardships, but no one cared enough to end it.
The popular ones have had their sufferings too,
I'm asking, why only them get the sympathy?
Aren't we all pretty?

I once knew a kid
who smiles at little things,
who cries for stolen candies.

I once knew a kid
who cheers for fallen flowers
who jumps for random kindness of strangers.

I once knew a kid
who fights for everyone's right
who stands for people's freedom.

I once knew a kid
who would make others feel happy
who would comfort their solitude before herself.

I once knew a kid
who is afraid to die
who doesn't want to permanently close her eye.

Now, I know this kid
who screams for God's name
begging to keep her away from her mind
and to stop the burning flame.

forget me
i don’t want you to get attached
to someone like me
i leave people behind
without any words coming out from my mouth
i just act like it is our last day
and a lifetime goodbye.
don’t ask why i left
just forget everything about me,
erase the memories
and continue living life.
i might regret my decision
but you won’t regret your future.

They are not the people who you can trust,
They are the demons of the past.
Day and night, they'll never leave out of your head.
Sharp objects are their favorite things to play.
Little by little, they can deeply stab you in your chest
Until you can no longer breathe,
They will stop, only for a minute.
They wouldn't **** you, they love it when you suffer.
Darling, they are the demons of the past,
Living inside the head of someone who wouldn't last.

we are free
and that's the reason
we experience pain.

You see me as the match,
and you’re the person
who is going to burn it.
You got me attached to you,
made me want not to sleep
just to talk to your silhouette,
and told me that it is better at night
when we can’t see the light
of something that can’t be ours.
You made me whole, turned to
being sullen so quick.
I burnt,
but it isn’t because of you.
Nothing’s about you,
it is all because of me.
I let myself be burnt,
just to be close to you.

He was not difficult to love
but hard to forget.
He would make you fall in love
with the letters
he writes using his soul,
it would tattoo on your bones
and you could never erase it,
for when you try, you’d only get hurt.
The pain of losing him
feels like he’s using your heart as his scratch
and you’d choose to feel another heartache
than to completely destroy the love he built
and be vanished for a lifetime.
You live to hear him.
He loves to write; lives to die.

The sky knows
how much I wanted to reach you.
The stars heard
the never ending wishes I had
to hold you through.
The rain saw
the tears I poured
synchronous to its droplets
when I was thinking of us two.
Old photographs have tracked
every gaze I made
before I let go and start anew.

She wanders,
guided by her lost soul.
She spills arts,
coming from her pure heart;
She writes words no one can understand,
yet she speaks it like it was kept in her mind
for so long, just waiting for someone to find it.
She is a masterpiece of her own,
but she has a heart of stone.

Words became lethal, hearts became cold
Those who once dug at your soul
Are now the ones who you loathe.
Everyone thought that nothing would change,
Yet in a single blink of an eye,
The chapter was turned into the last page.
And the book that was your favorite
is left at the dark side of the so-called lonely world,
abandoned and cold.