up to this day,
one am and nineteen years of living,
i thought i had mastered the art of looking forward
and loving every piece of myself that once i hated,
or the ones i've never really loved

but the world often prove me wrong
it made me tough as rocks just to bring the waves hitting me again
or simply by the words of mere meaningless letters
that aren't supposed to punch my gut

it doesn't take much to make my heart feel like carrying the whole world
it doesn't take much to take down the guards i've built
and you don't need to point your weapons at me and beat me up
to make me rethink of my decision to love myself

it does hurt for now like the world is against me
but i will pick up the pieces of my broken self back
and learn to love every single one of them again