I guess it's nice to know
That you were watching all along.
But it's also kinda sad to know
You did nothing at all.

If this is what you want,
I'll do it.

I'll play your little game,
Try to ignore your little face,
Wipe you off completely...

If this is what you want,
I'll do it.

Or at least try.

I've trapped myself in a cage,
A prison by my own hands
And don't worry, it is free will,
The bars are just like strands.
The metal replaced by rubber
But definitely made opaque,
That part's really important:
It hides all that is fake.
I've wrapped myself up tight
In these beautiful illusions
But hope is just a mirage, you see,
And you just a delusion.

Sometimes I wonder if you'd notice
If I was gone.

Honestly at this point of time,
I just have two words:

*******.

The last words you said
Still ring in my head:
Protect me? What could you have done?

And it's sad.
Because it's true.

I wouldn't have known
What to do.

Every night I lay here on my bed just
Staring at the ceiling while my mind races,
Thoughts in my head constantly ringing your name
Whether you're okay, whether you're alive,
Whether you still maybe hopefully remember me.

Every night I lay here on my bed just
Tugging at the blankets while my tears flow
Because maybe I had another flashback or
Because my creative mind thought of another nightmare where you die
Over and over and over again.
I am gripped with fear and my breathing quickens again.
I worry constantly about you.

Every night I lay here on my bed just
Tossing and turning because I
Just can't sleep.
I roll around in bed but all these thoughts fill my head.
Sometimes I wonder if you know that I care for you.
And inside,

I know you don't.

Because I never plucked up the ******* courage to
Tell you straight to your face that
I ******* care and that I really love you.
I pray every day that I don't go school and the principal says that
We need to have one minute of silence because
You died. You jumped.

You left me.

Sometimes I wonder if you forgot the promise.
That you'd leave me here all alone.
Sometimes I wonder if you still consider me your best friend.
Because you've always been mine and still are.
What matters is that I'm in your heart and you're in mine.
But I don't really know where I am anywhere now.

I'm sorry if you got mad that I overdosed.
I'm sorry if I added on to your burdens.
I'm sorry that I'm never there to protect you or care.
I'm sorry.

I really am.

I am angry.
Very angry.
And I don't even know Why but

Reading everything
Absorbing everything
Feeling everything

I feel extremely mad.
I feel the need to put a hole in the wall.
I feel the need to bang my head so hard it splits up
Nicely in the center.
I feel the urge to tear up the room.

I'm angry. Very angry.

**** it, I don't want to be destructive again.
I can't afford to be.
I can't.
I can't.
I can't.

I can't be bad again.

Sometimes I rewatch Anna's video
Over and over and over again.
And I replace Anna with you:
Having to say those heartbreaking words
With tears welled up and a dying voice.

I kind of die inside.

The first person I ever saw pass on
Was my great grandmother,
The wonderful woman who had 11 kids in total,
Second in line would be my grandmother,
Another special woman in my life.
I only remember my great grandmother
In her little wheelchair I loved to push around,
Or her four-pointed walking stick which I used as
Monkey bars and swung around,
Or the times we had to carry her into the toilet because
She couldn't help herself.
A few years later,
She moved out and I cried.
The strange thing was
I never cried during her funeral,
I didn't even weep when she took her last breath
With her eyes wide open on the hospital bed.
Everyone else was crying like mad,
And honestly in that moment,
I just felt weird.
Like a heartless creature who felt nothing.
People stared at me with their hateful tear-filled eyes.
I didn't like that. Not at all.
Maybe that's why,
Up to date,
I'm still trying to fix that.
Hoping for a chance to maybe feel grief again.

And this time I'd cry like crazy.
Mostly because now I am crazy.

I do not cry in front of people
But that does not mean I do not cry.

I am strong in front of people
But that does not mean I am not weak.

I am happy in front of people
But that does not mean I am not sad.

I am normal to all the people
But that does not mean I am not crazy.

Because I know it deep inside
I'm mentally ill and that if they ever saw that side of me,
They'd wonder what kind of  monster  they had just

Stared at.

Habit never bores me,
Pattern builds me up,
Convention is a comfort
And it hugs me like a pup.
So when there is a difference
It bothers me so much
When my weekly ritual's broken
It just seems wrong wrong wrong.

I've gotten myself a secret chest
Full of letters that won't lie.
Stored inside would be all me,
I'd write until I die.
They'd be filled with words I never said
To you to you and you.
They're everything I ever loved,
They're everything I ever hated,
They're everything I felt


Whilst you were gone.

I burned her name into my mind,
Saved the cage even though the bird flew away.
I recall her form like the rolling waves
But I still miss her so again today.

The way she smiled was warm as summer,
Just her presence livened my soul.
But as days grew by I saw a lonely bird,
In the cage was an estranged ghoul.

So I let it go and let it free,
Though inside hoping it'd stay with me.
My friend rejoiced as she flew away,
And I still miss her so again today.

I thought she was a companion for life.
For her I was elated, yet not so,
I can only hope she does ever return
Cos I never really let go.

It burdens me.

Because I know something happened
In that short span of time
While I was away.

Things always happen while I'm away.
Usually bad things.
I wish I was never away.

But I was.

And this huge tidal wave came crashing down.
All I'm left with when I return is
The sight of debris and destruction,
Things I cannot fix.

Things that are so mashed up
I can't see anything anymore.

And yet,
I see everything.

An emptied soul,
A broken world,
An isolated girl I still dearly love.

I am part of a long branch that
Stems from a
Very poisonous tree.

I am the fruit of the fourth wife,
The illegitimate and the shamed.

A few generations down the stalk,
You'd find me:
A cursed seed
That was never meant to be planted,
That was never meant to exist,
But has and will now plague the soil

*Forevermore.

My grandmother is a very strong woman.

She's the one with the booming voice in the house
And a hand that's as stiff as the rod.
She's the one who's the voice for justice
And always speaks up for the weaker like us.
She's the one who went to my elementary school
And made a huge fuss because I had "lost" my wallet three times.

My grandmother was the hero who found out
My wallet was stolen three times.

And she got all of them back.

My grandmother is also the shield who protected me from my grandfather
Who was an aggressive man who had an even louder booming voice.
My grandmother is the stand-between between me and my parents,
A secret getaway who's always there.
My grandmother is the kind of person that cares
Even though sometimes not in the way we see it.

My grandmother is the rock that secretly cries in the room
Even though she thinks no one hears her.
My grandmother is my grandmother.

And she's awesome.

Some nights I do not cry,
They are really rare.
But inside I'm praying,
You're not crying them for me.

I don't see how
Worrying can make you
Tired.

But it does.

It makes me exhausted, it makes me an insomniac,
It makes me think crazy, it makes me worry more than I already was.
It makes me think every one has something happening to them
Right now
At this very moment.

Something is
Wrong.

But I'm tired. I really am.
I need my sleep.
But my mind is fighting,
Telling me over and over and over again that
I need to check one last time
Whether someone is okay
Whether someone is alive
Whether someone is someone is...

**** it, there's the mental block.
It happens.
Usually.
I think.
I don't know.

But what I do know is that
It makes me unusual,
It makes me sick,
It makes me not normal.

It makes people stare,
It makes people scared,
It makes people laugh and laugh and laugh
While they call me names and mock me.

They tell me I'm crazy,
Mentally *******, a
"Psychopathic pill popper".

I know that I am.
And I'm trying to stop.
But it's hard.

And I'm tired.

Rainbows are just well-concealed illusions.
Always seen as happy, colourful... happy.
But don't you see, rainbows are really
All frowns. Made in rainwater and tears?
And soon, like all things they will fade,
Disappear like they never existed.

Just because someone doesn't reply in
An hour, or two, or three, or four,
Or half a day later...
Don't mean that something's happened, right?
Maybe something's just cropped up,
Maybe they decided to sleep early for once,
Maybe, maybe...
I don't know.

I just hope you're fine...

When I sleep in the nighttime,
Sometimes I hear voices.
I wonder every time whether they're cries from you.
They keep me awake most of the time,
But it doesn't matter.
The only thing that matters is you.
I listen out for them, but
They always seem muffled and incoherent.
Then I wonder


If everyone is dying at once.

Perhaps I'm just mad,
Not at you, but rather
Myself.

Wondering why I stopped searching
Even though I knew you were like
A lost star in the galaxy,
Waiting to be found:
Glowing, glowing,
But slowly dying.

I searched, I did.
But I'm not as gifted in astronomy as you are.
I'm always a tad bit too late and

The stars are already dead.

Forgive me for the only language I ever speak in is
My tears.
The warm streams of
Half anger, half sadness,
Half anxiety — Oh goodness,
I've lost count.

I don't know.
I'm just lost again.
But this time they aren't here to help me.

And I'm really
Still

Alone.

Passing all those drunkards on the street,
All high on wine and beer,
I spot the many different ones,
But none as bad as you.

What are you doing?
Surrounding yourself with
Cheesy romanticized novels about
People falling in love,
People with mental disorders
Falling in love.

Impossible.

I just know it.
The thought of someone who can
Appreciate all the
Extravagant worry and
Excessive hyperventilation.
The thought of someone who will
Tell you it's alright and
Hug you close,
Lie through his teeth and tell you
Your his special little angel.
The thought of someone who will
Love you
Even with this

******* mental disorder.

I am like that passerby
Who sees a drowning man,
Thrashing in the water.

Yet completely unable to swim.

I am like that passerby
Who sees a man getting mugged
Clamped in those brawny arms.

Yet not strong enough to defend.

I am like that passerby
Who sees a child crossing a dangerous road
Walking as the car zooms by.

Yet too scared to save.

I am like that passerby
And I will always only be a passerby.
I see but I do not do.
Helpless
But always forced to

Watch.

Oh don't bother,
Cos there was never any holiday to
Enjoy.

You were supposed to be normal.
You were supposed to be okay.
You were supposed to be fine.

You weren't supposed to have
All this ****.

They say Life always balances it off:
You take something somewhere,
You give it to another.

I was supposed to be the only
******* crazy one.

You weren't supposed to be hurt.
You weren't supposed to be anxious.
You weren't supposed to be suffering.

You were supposed to be
Happier.

Sometimes I wonder if what I need
Are pills or priest?

Psychology says it's just the wiring,
The brain all jumbled up:
Too much serotonin and too little endorphins.
Just another mental disorder on that long checklist,
Wait to be diagnosed or prepare a room in the asylum.

But fret not, it can be fixed with a little pill or two.
It will place you up on cloud nine.
It will cast away all those little incessant worries.

It will cure you.

Theology says it's all those ****** demons,
Just a night terror where those beasts come and
Haunt you day after day,
They attack your mind and believe me
Are they out to get your faith, to get your soul.

But fret not, it can be fixed with a little prayer or two.
The priest could just come in and do a little
Exorcism and you'd do just fine.

It will save you.

Sometimes I wonder if what I need
Are pills or priest?

Fire stains the night an orange hue,
The flames licking at the metal cages,
Burn. Destroy. Corrupt.
The light penetrates the windows to my room,
Arouses this long awake corpse,
Intrigues whats left of this shattered soul.
It draws me towards it, the blazing inferno calls:
*"Closer, closer, closer..."

It's always hard to sleep on soccer night:
The drinking, the shouting,
The occasional puking stench
Reeking from the living room.

It's always hard to sleep on soccer night.

My screams go far and wide,
Their frequency though, it seems,
Has reached such a desperate pitch that
It can only be picked up by few.
The louder I try to howl
The higher the frequency again,
And it's reaching one so high
That we're moving into ultrasound.

Maybe that's why they don't hear me.

I've had my share of pervs.
I've been groped.
I've been peeped.
I've seen them watch ****.
I've watched them play with themselves.
I've seen them drunk and hanging with women.
Yeah, I've had my share of pervs.
The only thing that's unchecked on the
Perv's checklist is:
Getting *****.

And I pray to God it stays unchecked.

We're both tired, aren't we?
Me of lying and
You

Of only knowing I'm lying.