Longing for the unknown,
and it hurts to know,
that we crave for the one,
that we don’t know.
The empty hole,
The stars shine, the sun rises.
The moon lights and the sky cries.
Even in dream, even in real life.
Even when the living is full of lies.
As day goes by.
I could be her
But I was that girl
I might be the woman
But I am this person
And all it takes to grow, is everything
Another person, another identity
Another faces to learn from each
To be better and healing.
Like the flowers, I be.
Like the flowers, I bloom.
Like the flowers, I might wilt.
Like the flowers, I’ll droop.
Even falling, yet still colourful.
I’m off the tracks, off the rocker.
Off the season, for the nice weather.
Off the line, for another offer.
Lost of senses, in the middle.
Of who I was, before the trouble.
Yet here I am, for the next performance.
You don’t deserve me.
Not for I am the perfect thing,
but for I am in broken pieces.
Where you might get cut
from the sharp edges.
And the last thing I need,
is for you to get hurt.
For you the one,
that’s far from imperfections.
While I’m the one,
with questionable existence.
I pictured the rose red,
just like the sign on my door.
just like the hole in my soul.
just like the hope that I’ve lost.
But the rose is white,
just like the ghost
since you’ve been gone.