I am a mellow song that’s used to silently hiding somewhere between the lines of a tragic poetry; but sometimes, I become a messed up sound, and all of the serene rhythms of my metaphors get thunderous and clangorous; because sometimes, my fear and my own horrible phantasm get fused and turn into a deafening music or a destructive earthquake that even I can’t handle by myself. All of the horrible heat from the deepest part of my heart gets rising until it comes out of my mouth. I shout loud at the solemn sky, but sometimes at people. This is where I hurt people. Sometimes, everyone reminds me of the ghosts that haunt me every night, so the sharpest words slip out of my tongue like a magma that turns into lava and wounds others’ hearts. My own heart shakes until it creates a tragedy or a catastrophe for everybody. Sometimes, everyone reminds me of the death-like voices that keep reverberating in my head, and keep making me feel dead, so I can’t stop myself hurting them just to make me feel relieved. I forget that my own emotional eruption is a dangerous destruction.
To everyone I have ever encountered in my life, I’m sorry if I ever did hurt you when I was breaking inside.