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I keep writing "she" in my poems instead of "I" because I'm afraid of letting people know what's really going on inside my head, of knowing that I am the one who's been in so much pain for so long and not this "she" character everyone thinks I created. I don't tell anyone because then they will look deeper, and the deeper they'll look, the darker the images they'll see. Their curiosity will get them looking and wondering the thing I'm hiding behind the fake laughs. My insanity will be an interest of theirs and not me. I will simply be an interesting story to gossip about.

I honestly can't tell you when was the last time I laughed or even smiled (not even my favorite TV shows or favorite comedians can make me laugh). I only know about the long crying myself to sleep nights. The desperate continuous prayers. Laughing became forbidden, a sin that my mind is refusing to let me commit.

I've been running through this tunnel for so long looking for that light everyone keeps talking about. But the faster I run, the further I go, the longer the tunnel seems to get. I don't see a way out of here.

Sleeping used to be my temporary way out but even that, the sadness managed to take over it. It has taken over everything, became everything that I am. I've lost interest in everything and everyone. It's like I'm living in a nightmare and I know there is no better reality to wake up to. Do you know how that feels like? To be hopeless all the time even when you are not awake? To just exist and not live? To be in pain, to feel like you're slowly dying but there's nothing physically wrong with you? To feel like you are in this world alone because no one can see that you are suffering, no one hearing your cries for help, not your friends, not even your family? Do you know how hopeless feels like? I do. And it's killing every lasting bit of me. (And I don't know how much longer I can hold on)
Always wearing the tough guy hat
Showing others the tough wall that she has built
Making them believe that nothing and no one can break through
That the wall is made of steel
When in reality it's being put back together with cheap duct tape each night

At nights, she cracks
She can't hold it in anymore
At nights, she is most herself
Broken, but her true self. No masks no putting any shows, just herself

She can't understand what she's feeling and that is killing her
Who are you supposed to understand and know better if not yourself?

She kept finding herself leaning toward wolves and their stories
People fearing the howls not realizing it's a cry for help
Perhaps she could relate
Perhaps both are misunderstood by others and themselves
Not knowing who they are and who they should be
Only knowing comfort under the moonlight

As the silent tears find their way down her cheeks
She sleeps at night with few answers
Only to wake up with more questions that she cannot find the answers to
She keeps waking up more confused than the day before
Making her wonder: "is this all that I am? Is this all that I can be?"

He was a recovering alcoholic
She was a double shot of *****

He desired  her like an ex-smoker desires to smoke one last cigar before his lungs shut down completely, before he breathes his last breath
Like any smoker who would like to have the privilege to smell "Gurkha Black Dragon"

Their love was made of music notes no one got to hear
Music played only in their ears

Like moon and sun
Like day and night
They shouldn't collide
They can't meet

Mother nature would lose her balance each time they kissed
The universe did not approve of their love

A love story that should have never been lived, should never be written nor spoken about

Her mind constantly plotted against her
Made her believe things that eventually resulted in self destruct
She never understood why… and how could she?
How is one supposed to understand the feeling to have your own mind eating you from the inside, trying to ruin and destroy everything you’re trying to build. To have yourself as the archenemy. To have yourself not giving you a chance to live. To have your own mind telling you that you are not worthy nor deserve to walk on this earth
She can’t trust herself, she therefore can’t trust anyone

“Aren’t we supposed to be in the same team?” She asked her mind
You see, depression doesn’t know what he is
Doesn’t know that he is a sickness, a disease
To him, he is just looking for a place to stay, for a home
And the only way for him to find a home is to invade and create civil wars
Depression has no problem going into a war zone with no weapons
Because he is a strong enough of a weapon himself
He has been into many wars, and won countless battles
You see, the odds are usually in his favor
So depression has no problem going into a war

His mistake was making her his being
When instead of sharing his heart, he gave her his whole

She played with his heart like a symphony, a beautiful masterpiece with sad melody that broke hearts

She left him with broken strings
She played him till he broke, till he could no longer compose any beat

An incomplete song with no rhythm, just a dead chorus singing with no harmony, playing a silent orchestra in an empty stage


She didn't need words to understand his heart

His look, that look, the way he looked at her said it all and she felt it all... no words were needed to be uttered, just eyes meeting and falling for each other, souls clicking and fitting perfectly

I always thought that when time comes, when I fall in love, everything would be just perfect. Even the imperfections would seem perfect to me. I would even love the things I hate

Okay. You fall in love.. Now what?
What changes? He doesn't love you so what do you do?

I fell in love and all I did was cry
Love came bearing gifts shaped in insomnia and heartbreak
Love came with self hate
Love came with questions of what's wrong with me? Why am I not good enough? How much is good enough?

Love was never kind to me
Love made me suffer
Love made me sad
Because I am always the one who loves more, always the one who loves, never the one loved

What do you do when you love someone who doesn't love you back?
What do you do with those feelings?
Where do you put them?
What do you do with the unwanted feelings that you love and want to keep?

Love was never kind to me
Love is painfully beautiful
Love hurts but I don't want it to stop
I am addicted to you but I don't want to be recovered
How could you be both my source of pain and my pain killer?

I'm addicted to you, stay with me... Even if it's just in my dreams. Hold me and... Stay.
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