my body
and my mind;
these are the things
i wish are still mine

my head is numb,
and I'm here to express;
it's looking real glum
I think I'm depressed

I'm taking meds,
wouldn't budge from my bed,
my eyes scream out sad;
this feels really bad.

everyone says,
"it's going to be okay",
but they are not here to stay,
who gave them a say?

I think I'm depressed,
feeling kinda gray,
perhaps I'm feeling stressed,
but it's just like any other day.

the reason
I'm happy every day
is because
I woke up
from a nightmare
that almost consumed me
the night before.

and I laugh
for I fear;
when I face
the same nightmare again
I wouldn't wake up
to see
the day after tonight.

we all fear relationship,
a sunken feeling,
when attachment
weighs you

down.

you fear it would not sail,
with the anchors of
past memories
holding this journey.

when it does sail one day,
I want to sing to
the song of the sea;
the sea of love.

with a voyager
who knows how
to navigate my
rocky emotions;
waves of anxiety
and leads me to
where our future lies.

let's be friends, wait -
no, let's not be friends;
feelings, stop confusing me.

do you know you sound
like two angels bickering -
and then making out?
when you stare at me,
my reflex says run fast,
but all I want to do;
is run close.

you, I really hate you,
annoying *****,
sometimes I want to
slap you straight
into my face, then lips.

and then when I saw you,
behind the ***** windows
with your friends,
and my female best friend,
laughing and sounds of
woos and hoo's -
I give up.

                ***** this 'friend-****'.                                        

you once said,
let's be friends,
and I said, go to hell;
but ten years later,
all I want to say is,
let's be friends,
behind the screens.

there are no longer
monsters under my bed.

the last time I saw it,
was the last time
I held my milk bottle tightly
in my grips;
but it still left me.

the monsters under my bed
packed and went away,
when I turned twelve
and turned off my nightlight.

the monsters,
       said goodbye to me,
as I stared at the ceiling
the night after my
first heartbreak

I miss the monsters
the ones hiding under my bed;
every night,
as I turned off my lights,
I almost forgot about them

the part of my innocence.
the purity that went away.