Ripping through my soul,
The black soul invades in,
I let my howl be heard.
Pouring blood that runs all over my face.
Those wrinkled hands cursed my life,
chanting on spells, driving me away of reality.
Those poisonous tongue are the one who dim my light,
leaving these open wounds infected and rotten.

Nothing seems to amused me,
I got no interest in some things for now.
Interaction have gone to minimum,
but food keeps me awake.

The fear i had for words around me,
logophobia they named it.
Anxiety keeps kicking in like a gun to my weak heart,
leaving me on guard to my surroundings.
Frustrated over nothing,
tears come falling down in dawn.

The tightening of chains in my chest,
started to bleed slowly, killing me inside.
If life is going to be this tough,
why do I need to get involved?

If there is a term to explain this,

Is this the start of depression?

All my surroundings are new to me, nothing seems familiar, but I finally got used to it. People changes, and so as their status, but...
*My time has stopped, since that day

Does it even matter anymore?
                To put together a broken ceramic.
                               It's Art they say; but few understand.

                Does it even matter anymore?
                               To put on garments around my feets
                                              That are used to the shards.

Don't carve me out, I am not a diamond
Because I still got a mask to hold on to.
I can't let this facade loose, so I can face on the world

Nights after nights
These juices keep seeping inside me,
Getting me blinded by those artificial lights

Holding it high, grabbing it by the fragile neck
Pouring it all at once, shots by shots
As I keep dawning myself till I can't hold on no more
Darkness started to invade, putting me to have a good night's rest.

I've always thought that I have healed myself from the open wound before. But I've never realized that all this time, I'm just covering up my wounds along with the changing of seasons.

The spring breeze;
    that blows my past worries away with the dancing sakura petals
The bright summer sun;
    that reaches upon my darkest corner, showering me with its
    utmost warmth
The changing color of leaves;
    that turns my life resolution from monochromatic to vivid hues
The cold white snowstorm;
    that keeps piling up, upon my open wound

Not even the four seasons could ease the pain,
Nor the mesmerizing landscape could help me escape
Nothing, but myself to end this war alone...

Till the ends of time, until another season comes;
these struggles keep goes on...

Sometimes I questioned myself,

What does my existence mean to others?

What roles do I have

Being around society.

Am I just a pierrot?
Am I your stress ball?
Am I your mirror on the wall? or
Am I just your add-ons to your cart?

Am I written on your favorite list?
Am I categorized at the end of the list?
Am I reaching my expiry date? or
Am I just a mystery bundle that's so bizarre?