He was my definition of satisfaction,
my happiness ruled over by my affection,
He gave me hope when I was lost in my direction,
He's as warm as the sun of summer,
The pleasure of snow in the winter,
I felt like the tree with thousands of fallen leaves of fall,
Slowly withering, giving up my body and soul,
offering my everything and giving him all,
What will be left of me?
I guess it'll be worth it if the favor will be returned to me.
His voice was music filling my head with powerful lyrics,
The curve in his lips when he's interested.
Everything about him was burried deep on my mind.
He was my 11:11 wish every night,
My one wish on a falling star,
My most wanted when I throw a coin on a fountain.
My diary would be empty if it wasn't for you,
Thank you.
I hope you'd take notice that here I am secretly loving you, while I watch you secretly loving her.

As she stared at at the mirror,
she hated herself.
For being ugly.
Pathetic.
Depressed.
And for giving up easily.
Yet what she didn't know,
Somebody out there wished to be her.

Everything goes bad,
but life offers a second chance.
It's called tomorrow.

c. lg

Rebel.
I became that kind of a beast,
Vices became an addictive feast.
Sorrow was my deepest ocean,
and I left myself sink.
My mind was chained to the pleasure of pain making me a hostage to something I can choose to escape.
But I shan't leave the room of monsters,
I'm compelled by the attention I've finally receive.
Nonetheless it wasn't good enough,
So I become distant and rough.
I left my friends and made razor blade my closest companion,
and became my silver pen of devastating art of red.
It was half terrifying and half satisfying,
the way your skin opening and smiling.
It was calling and foretelling,
how one slide can be tempting.
It felt like handcuffs on my wrist.
I loved the pain, and at the same time I twice hated it.
It was ghastly haunting,
Like ropes tied on your neck stopping you from breathing.
My life was like a prison cell,
cold bars on my skin,
no visitors no guests, just me all alone knees bent while crying.
Until tears run dry and you can't cry.
I was chained by my feeling of being not good enough and locked myself from trying again.