I'm way past my boiling point. I am slamming my fingers hard against the keyboard and i can feel myself trembling as the anger flushes down me. I wish I could understand your point of view. I wish I could see how you could even imagine doing it. I wish I could read your mind and see your intentions. But **** you, you are just an *******. You are drenched in the holy fire of hell. You are the demon I see on my shoulder. You are the biggest ******* *******.

I've been known to romanticize anything, everything, I feel, but **** it. Even I can't pretend a ****** person like you can be magically perfumed with my words

I did become stronger
after surviving the fall
when i hit rock bottom

but the wounds are still there
still fresh
and it still stings to the touch

*—L.m.

once you had
    a taste of sadness,
          do your best to warn
          other people not to eat it

    *—L.m.

i keep forgetting that it was never your fault
   i keep forgetting that you are no mind reader
   we both have the demons
   we both have the nightmares
   we both know what it's like to be dead
   and sadly, we both don't know how to cherish
   we both push away people
   we both can't accept happiness
   we both crave we both want we both need
   maybe it's our fault
   we're both born selfish
   and we both take take take
   until everything got so dried up we don't have anything else to offer
  
and even i can't take how empty the air is between us


*—L.m

it used to be because I had family problems
and I had witnessed so much lack of love
between my parents

it used to be because I was so stressed in school
i had mental breakdowns in front of my desk
because I couldn't answer #2

it used to be because I felt nobody understand me
everybody else was happy and good
and i didn't want to ruin the mood

it used to be because I replaced tears with heavy breathing
and clenching fists
"take a deep breath! take a deep breath!" they yell
but i just couldn't hear

it used to be because I thought I didn't deserve happiness
i was *****, i am in the wrong
and i couldn't be happy for anybody else

it used to be because of a lot of things, but i've already learn. it used to be because of so many things. so many things used to bother my sleep and my mind. there used to be so many demons on my shoulders. there used to be nothing else but pain. and i wish i was exaggerating but it's real and it's mine and i can't control it. but i already learned to be happy

so please please tell me this is temporary i don't want to revisit the darkness again please somebody tell me this drowning feeling and shifting moods are nothing i dont want this i dont want to live in fear of everything i dont want to push other people away i dont want my nightmares to eat me in the morning and my dreams to haunt me in my sleep

i've already been there. so please don't give me another reason to relive it

I haven't been writing these days and I guess
   I could blame it on a lot of things
    like how I could've written about how your eyes
    remind me of my guilty pleasures
         chocolates. oh! so delightful, oh! so sinful
             (it even describes you perfectly)
    and how much I love the the way
    you say my name
    and how I wish you called me more
         even if all you need is a hand
            (and not because you missed me at all)
    I could've written you a prose and your name
      could've been the only thing dripping
      on the pages of my journal
    I could've written all your favorite lines
      and pin them on my corkboard
    I could've written you songs after songs
      wishing that they will soon be your favorites

   but I guess I can't write about things
        that can be mistaken as my suicidal note
        because you're just killing me
        but I can't help but love the sensation

it took me 365 days
  to get over you

guess now I'm back to square one

maybe the reason why i do things so recklessly within the mere presence of yours is because i can only hear the loud thumping and the loud crashing of my fickle heart and the hazy infatuation continues to seep through the atmosphere blurring my vision.

  i used to promise myself to never lose my cool around guys because they shouldn't have that power over me but theres just something about you, you, you—maybe it was your carefree disposition that makes me crave freedom too or was it because your sad moments never seems to stop and i feel compelled to bring you out of that shallow hell you build around yourself—you are flooding my thoughts and tangling up my words into bundles of anxious thread and my lips tremble to the beat of my shaking fingers

  i once told you to never say goodbye because it kills a part of me. i wish i also mentioned that you simply being here also takes my breath away

  *—L.m.

i told you not to make
   me the anchor that tames you down
   whenever you feel like you're
       drowning again;
you promised not to look at me
   as if I'm the sun and you haven't
   tasted the light in such a long
   time inside all the frigid darkness
       you’ve enveloped yourself in;
you said you won't cling on me
   like the attachment a flame has
   on all the cigarette sticks you perpetually have
   between your lips, waiting, until each fire coughs up
        its last smoke;
       (it wasn't long before I
          coughed mine.)

i told you, i told you, i told you,
     the I wouldn't stay long—
     that I wanted to lessen the damage
     that I'll inflict on you; so I made you
     promise and
you promised, you promised, you promised,
     that you'll never depend on me
     as if I'm the only person who can ignite your soul
  
but you didn't keep your words
    and I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I kept mine

    *—L.m

you told her
scars are there to be a reminder
that she once survived
death (and won)

but she knew
deep in her heart,
those gashes on her wrists
are there to remind her
that she once wished for
death (but failed)

Thank you
for letting me hear the saddest songs and making
me understand that even sadness can be beautiful;
for letting me see the world as it is: cruel and how
it's filled with dark souls and beautiful city lights;
for letting me taste the sweetness of slow kisses
and the bitterness of first heartaches;
for letting me touch the deepest depths of my
heart i never knew existed;
and for letting me smell so many red roses
and teaching me not to ignore the thorns.

Thank you
for showing me beautiful pain and
poetic sadness, but for now,
goodbye.

I'm off to find someone who'll let me hear
happy songs next.

i don’t know how to console
someone who
is going through a hard time.
i don’t know what to do,
what to say,
or what to advice.
And I just want to slap myself
because im thinking of myself again
with such pointless thoughts
and endless I’s,
instead of the person who is
carrying on my shoulder.
right now.

but instead,
i was a flower that was carelessly plucked by you
because you thought I was fragile
and that i was beautiful;
soon after,
you kept on pulling my petals,
asking me with shaking breaths,
"do you love me or not?",
choking my stems
as you clench your fist
trying to make me feel your
desperation
and your painful
obsession
you always think is love.
you thought your preference of me
among all the other beautiful flowers
is a wonderful gift I should appreciate,
but let's be honest here

all you ever did was stop me from growing

I won’t lie.
(The truth is,)
(I) have never felt
More annoyed
than by the
(Like)s of (you.)