Thinking about the past
Seems unreal
Like a dream
I've seen it and done it
But I'm just not sure it happend

you are the moon, the stars, the fireflies
you are the sun, the trees, and butterflies
you're a masterpiece i badly wanna stare
it's been a while, yet you're still everywhere

can i blame gravity, 'cause it's pulling me
the feeling keeps pulling me relentlessly

The whispers of madness now leach through the walls
and darkness it draws ever near
buried in sorrow, hope faded away
and left only anger and fear.

I do not fear death everlasting
nor the weight of a judgement long due.
What I fear is the monster I harbour
as I'm slowly but surely consumed.

All I want was a shelter to feel comfortable with.
A warmth that you felt safe.
Trust for mutual understanding.
  And the pleasure you fully pledge to.  
  
    Seems like loving someone at this age makes us feel unsafe and unsecured, and mostly – at times, temporary.

You’re not a poet because you know those ‘fancy’ words
You’re a poet because every word you write comes straight from your heart

You’re not a poet because people admire your work
You’re a poet because you write for your own contentment and not for people's consent

You’re not a poet because you feel alone
You’re a poet because pen and paper are your biggest companions

You’re not a poet because you understand emotions better
You’re a poet because you let them flow freely

You are not a poet because you’ve failed in love
You’re a poet because you’ve been in love deeper than anyone else

You’re not a poet because you are strong
You’re a poet because you don’t hide your weaknesses

You’re not a poet because you can heal hearts
You’re a poet because you know what it means to be broken