i’m a functioning mess
or am i too depressed to move in this life like a chess?

am i not worthy enough,
or am i too stiff to fit in a formal-attire environment?

i thought i had made my best moves
but oh i forgot i am not the only writer in this life
as i breath the air that we are in, i feel suffocated, caged, and confused

i think i am too dumb and too numb
so i burn myself in the hearth of fire
they say “do not self-diagnose”
but i sink, quietly, into the idea of death

hey mom, your daughter’s not herself anymore
she forgot how to make important conversations
and lost her mind in the abyss of emotions
i guess my sadness is not worthy to be known in the media
so i’ll be leaving a lot of trivia

i befriended my worst of self and let her live
she laughs at me and i let her thrive
i don’t think i am deserving
i feel like i am abdicating
instead of sky-rocketing

should i turn back to where once i felt safe?
or has the door closed behind me, locked with the grace of my own farewell?

i promised not to go back, because i’d make nothing out of my old life
i just let myself sit in my room, zoning out with my own intrusive thoughts

my mind drowns in the ocean of “what ifs”
twisting itself to the past,
rewriting memories at speed i can’t control
too much what ifs leads to overthinking
and i am suffocating

i wanted to sit down and tell Him my stories
but too ashamed since i have a lot of unsaid sorries

the prayer mat stays untouched,
like a letter i was too afraid to send
i am a never-ending guilt-ridden, self-sabotaged being
all i do is weeping
counting apologies i don’t know how to speak