Oct 2016
i've been waking up smiling some of these days
school things are inevitable but it's lovely how i can do what i love while doing so.
i laughed a lot, smiled to every people i met on the street, god knows if they are going to be one of the chapters on my book someday.
i make new things, i grow myself a garden, i surround myself with lovable people, people who make jokes, people who hugs me lots, people who makes me feel a bit safer than being alone.
some of these days i even thought that i'm going to be fine aftermath, that i've forgotten how your hands felt like on the glove of my right hand, that i've suffered enough and this is my time to be okay, finally.
and this little blue bird told me to be happy, to know my worth and walk away, and that being okay will make you feel a little burst in your heart, that you'll regret, that you will not feel okay. i was told that what i pretend is what i will be. and that by showing you that i'm happy will **** you a bit slowly.
but i'm tired of pretending,
i'm tired of holding back tears,
i'm tired of smiling and holding back my tears,
i'm tired of the look on my friend's face everytime i said “i am finally happy”, because god they know i'm a bad liar
i'm tired
of pretending
i understand, that what i pretend is what i will be, and if i say that i'm happy there will come a day when my mind will finally believe me.
i've been saying “i'm happy” so much i'm not sure anymore my name is still the one my mother gave me.
there are some people who have been trying to hold my hand, you see, to ease the pain and make it less empty, but the burn marks on my right hand you left behind won't go away that easily.
the wound on my right shoulder is still gaping wide open.
and most of these nights i still wake up screaming your name, and your face, it's still framed beautifully on my black walls of dreams, still not going down the drain.
i understand, you're a fast track plane without a rear view mirror. you're not coming back. but please spare me, i can't help it that i'm still walking like a baby
i'm tired
and i don't understand
why the only one i'm killing with this happiness is
none other than me.
school things are inevitable but it's lovely how i can do what i love while doing so.
i laughed a lot, smiled to every people i met on the street, god knows if they are going to be one of the chapters on my book someday.
i make new things, i grow myself a garden, i surround myself with lovable people, people who make jokes, people who hugs me lots, people who makes me feel a bit safer than being alone.
some of these days i even thought that i'm going to be fine aftermath, that i've forgotten how your hands felt like on the glove of my right hand, that i've suffered enough and this is my time to be okay, finally.
and this little blue bird told me to be happy, to know my worth and walk away, and that being okay will make you feel a little burst in your heart, that you'll regret, that you will not feel okay. i was told that what i pretend is what i will be. and that by showing you that i'm happy will **** you a bit slowly.
but i'm tired of pretending,
i'm tired of holding back tears,
i'm tired of smiling and holding back my tears,
i'm tired of the look on my friend's face everytime i said “i am finally happy”, because god they know i'm a bad liar
i'm tired
of pretending
i understand, that what i pretend is what i will be, and if i say that i'm happy there will come a day when my mind will finally believe me.
i've been saying “i'm happy” so much i'm not sure anymore my name is still the one my mother gave me.
there are some people who have been trying to hold my hand, you see, to ease the pain and make it less empty, but the burn marks on my right hand you left behind won't go away that easily.
the wound on my right shoulder is still gaping wide open.
and most of these nights i still wake up screaming your name, and your face, it's still framed beautifully on my black walls of dreams, still not going down the drain.
i understand, you're a fast track plane without a rear view mirror. you're not coming back. but please spare me, i can't help it that i'm still walking like a baby
i'm tired
and i don't understand
why the only one i'm killing with this happiness is
none other than me.
