you're everywhere i go,
your presence does flow
why is it that it's your face i see
wide awake or in my dreams?
your hair so distinct, i want to feel them
your eyes so piercing, i want to touch them
how you look at me is what makes my heart stop
how bizzare is this that your voice makes everything else crop
you become the centre of my attention, my universe
and thinking of things i wish to do to you makes me perverse
but our timing has never been right
against our situations we can't fight
so all we do is stare at each other's soul
because being with each other will take a toll
on my already beautifully bruised heart
oh baby, we've been cursed from the very start

i wish to remove this piece of clothing and show off my skin
unblemished yet scarred i lay in my bed wanting to commit sin
the temptation to **** my morals off and become an ******* is so strong
that i wish to be bad and feel good when i do something wrong
i am tired of being this version of myself- weak, virtuous, wise, vulnerable
that in my years of living fairy tales i am making ******' folks and fables
guys out there have never really looked at me
in me they find nothing good enough to see
a grandma wrapped in loose clothes and a tight bun
is so **** dull to touch or have a substantial amout of fun
i have a gift of pushing people away and putting them off
always ******' smiling or crying in corners, i am a laughing stock
i can be the hottest and sexiest woman in my head
but in reality i am ******' lame to my bones, that said-
i can neither become a nerd properly nor live recklessly,
this is chaining my soul to a place i don't belong, honestly
at this point i don't even know what do i need
stuffing my face with bulshit, these pretty little lies do i feed
the road i take takes me to places i don't fit in
and this happens because i ain't comfortable in my own skin
all these years, i wonder where has my confidence been
longing for someone to match my wavelength, my flames' twin
i have wasted my breaths on things that don't matter
in the silence of my suffering i have become immune to chatter
so speak i out about my problem and affairs
thinking that they who listen honestly do care
maybe they do and maybe they don't give two *****
about me aiming for stars or my self-esteem taking hits
why can't i be a private person and stay shut?
to live, why do i need the pain of a bleeding cut
why am i not normal but being normal is not what i want
this confusion, dichotomy and paradox is what haunts
*"to be or not to be"...................................
or be blind and pretend to nerve see

dreaming of a future i still sleep in the past
no thoughts of the present shall ever last
because in my masochism all i deeply crave
is to build my house on a ******' grave
i miss who i was and yet don't want to be her
why isn't life ever clear but a burdening blur
everything i believed in no longer exists
changes too bold, is what life insists
but i ain't ready to move forward yet
or am i? but still do i fearfully fret
how did i talk to strangers for hours?
listening to their tales of scars and stars
i am back to that time when pressed i
hearts on people's stories for no reason why
but don't know if i want to be that person again
desperate for affection and easy prey to pain
i have a beautiful human around me
who sees me and still loves me infinitely
yet i feel this way and it is beyond my comprehension
-what is future if not the past's present extension?