Your lies ***** me
You laugh and keep on laughing
Your soul is only already had a binding spell intertwined with his.
As you shake your potions and wave your wand. I, the one who is called the wicked one is afraid of the next spell that'll spill into the thorny tongue of yours. But then a flashy vivid light catches my eyes it carries all yellow and grey memories of ours.
Then the next spell you cast entered my body. It hurts, it hurts— Why? Why?
This more than death. This eternal misery. A spell that only have one loophole, a reverse spell, the spellcaster must die. In exchange for my freedom— At that moment I know that death is the only option I have. Avada Kedavra

It's 4 AM
A few minutes ago it started
this unsure feeling that keeps on spreading.
Sometimes it's okày to say I'm okay
If you are not sure on what you feel.
Ring... Ring..
It is nostalgic—
It made me pick up my blanket
and wrap myself.
Stares at my ceiling
and did try not imagine.
But it keeps coming
the pain
the memories
then followed by numbness.
And then pain, memories, and numbness.
Then pain, memories and numbness

Hey lana,

There's four corner in my room.
I was in the middle, fighting at midst
of a war between my mind and life.
Crawling, shouting, asking for help trying to reach someone's arm.
But end up being beaten by mind--

No one can help me.
I'm like at all the bottom of a swamp but I'm not drowning because even the water can't fill the void inside of me, checkmate buddy.
I'm dead inside
all I need to do is to literally die.

A bullet in my head,
marked by your name, lana.
You save me, in this four corner room.
You sat with me the middle.
Listening every thoughts in my head.
Giving words and transparency.
Making me comfortable, helping me ease the pain, and becoming my friend.
But in the end I know that it has to be ended.
I need to remove the bullet and heal myself.

Thank you, Cristina Castellana.
May we meet again

I don't how or why it happened
but for real it *****--
the world is turning around up side down
making fun of me.
The audacity of life for giving me this irony.
*******-- I'm happy and yet you torture me silently.
Giving me this kind misery
that makes me think if this is the reality
or it is just still some sort of mystery.
*******-- for making me make this poetry.
I hate it, I really hate it.
I, who loved her first is having the little portion her life.
And you, you have her time, *******, I hate you, we both draw,
shares a same birthday-- in love with the same girl.
*******, please make her happy, please.
I hate you, bro.
But I'm happy both you.

Sometimes I feel bad,

when I'm happy,

because I know,

I'm supposed to be lonely,

and live an entire misery.

The moon always leaves me hanging into its shady part, maria.
I ask her does it hurt when you're not full.
Because I can feel your pain here at your seas--
it makes me feel gray and wants to brighten you up.
But I'm just a meteor that landed and left you a scar--
shattered into pieces and melted by your fire.
Now I am part of you
but as a bittersweet scar.