My skin is seeping salty feelings, and cooking warm under the pressure of anxiety.
I just typed a series of monologues to your inbox again, but you don't seem to hear them.
It's 3:46 AM. I'm almost delirious. What is sleep? I spend about 14 hours in bed everyday.
I usually get 1-2 hours of sleep.
My tears have stained my pillowcase. Like, I don't turn the light on anymore because I see the stains.
In my room, it is very cold. I guess it's cold like me. Or is it really, just cold like you?
I'm lost and alone, and I'm afraid you'll never come back.
I need you back.
What did you not understand?
When I told you when we were still together, that I'd love you until the day I died?
When I told you after you forcefully dumped me, I'd have this problem until the day I died?
Because the day I die, in my last moments, I will finally be able to decide to give up on you.
At times, I've wanted to commit suicide.
Because if I'm not waiting for you,
I'm waiting until the day I die.
Oh look, another monologue.
Don't read this one.
Go hang with your girlfriend instead.
You already decided that's whats best for your health.

Isn't it wonderful how we say
what is real, what is not, and what is what
over the view of what we know and what we don't
Only to discover that what we believed had long gone
moved on
In situations we find ourselves stuck, you are stuck
we pretend that it's worse, that's it's different
but all the way it wasn't
it's a creation of your twisted mind
sculpted by the hands of a twisted man
We try our best to see what's beyond
what's far, what's in the future
predict the utopia, forgot
that life isn't all what you want
and that's when we start
to feel what we want,
see only what you want to see
and for all the mercy in the world
you exist only in the parameters of your own mind
unreachable
your reality is far from what is real
what are you, who are *you

A star that may have burned,
     exploded,
          died,
Three billion years ago
     still remains alive in the hearts of children
          with curious eyes and
budding imagination.

A memory that may have  dissipated,
     dissolved,
          evaporated into thin air.
Still has the power to
     Pierce a heart,
          Melt a soul,
With a desire to have the unattainable.

A love that may have crumpled,
     deteriorated,
          shattered
Three years ago
     can still make tears fall,
          and hearts clench
With thoughts of what could have been.

It leaves
Then it comes back
It haunts me
I forget about it
It's still there
It does not exist
Yet it is my greatest fear

The monsters in my head
That I call fear, jealousy and insecurities
They are ghosts that should have died
Lingering and following me around

They make this puzzle so complex
Though I am almost finished
And already holding the last piece
Why am I searching for other pieces
to complete the missing space,
when the answer is already in my hands?
And all I have to do is to place it down

And what seemed like an easy jigsaw
Becomes a stage performance
And I am the actor with only one line
The monsters, they scream
They try to taunt me
I struggle to fight back
But I see them in the crowds
And what seemed like one line
Felt like a dictionary I had to memorize
And I mess up
And the monsters have won
They always find a way to take over me