Everytime that the lustrous moon's visage apply
as how the stars that glimmering divided in the sky
waiting to perceive a new chapter of tragical book,
that she always utter while descending her tears—
When she's sensing at the antiquated photographs,
titled by their names with date and sugary caption
especially those blessed-satisfactory representation.
She poisoned her mind that he's a gentle saviour
as how he grasps her hands when she fell before,
She reminiscence when he enunciate the word hello,
that gave color to her life but he just left her alone.
She severed her wrist to release her poorly feelings
and filled a pen with her blood that she use to write
her unheard emotions and questions into a paper;
Is it bad if I look to our immemorial representation?
Is it bad if I believe that you're a good-hearted person?
Is it bad if I verbalize your splendiferous sanction?
Is it bad if I cut my wrist to impoverish my emotion?
Is it bad if I wear happy mask to hide my impression?
Is it bad if I didn't fight our love for your satisfaction?
Is it bad if I still love you without any hesitation?
Is it bad if I want you to be yours without limitation?
She asked using literary art from her fragile heart—
as a glass that downward-sloping from the paradise,
Moving swiftly with air, think through being escaped
but directly goes to the pits and broke into pieces.
Sunlights reverberate his faded shades of love for her
make her to reckon his spoken metaphors anywhere,
that slowly killing her willingness to symphathize life,
due of his falsity phrases that stabbed her as a knife.
My heart is to the sky.
I am open, alive, and exposed in the night.
The world is bright, the sun is out
But I am hurt so I will shout
In a bright yellow dress.
I sing a song of defeat
With a crowd before me
Who applauds for the melody,
I need a remedy.
I dont remember what I came here for
My heart is deaf from the sound of
She grew thorns...
Not to lure him in
But to keep him out
who was deception
For as beautiful as she was,
She was dangerous within
Her petals holding secrets
No world could bear...
She grew thorns
All to protect
Her fragile heart
Am like an Egg
On the branch of a very old and dry Tree
Trying to stay alive
Even in a Storm
I just roll in the my scanty nest and try to survive
The tree ends up breaking
I am falling to the ground with no where to grab on
Even if i want to hold on something i am just an egg
I don't have arms and legs
If you hold me to hard, I will break
And if you don't i may fall
Its not you fault if i break on you
It because I am Fragile
I'm scared of the future
And how I'll be
Filled with anxiety
Will I have a handle on my life
Or will the wheels fall off?
And I'm left to die
Will my feelings for change
Do they remain?
Does love exists in my dictionary
Or is it replaced with hate?
Do I see clearly?
Or is it all a blur?
Do my friends stick by me?
Do I sit in the house alone?
Do I grow old and forget my nae?
Or does the noose come to claim me?
Am I happy or sad?
Do I have kids?
Am I lost in my imaginations
Or living them instead?
Before today, I had nearly passed it
Everything I was
Everything I felt
Had faded out.
I was me again.
The me that found comfort in an empty house
The me that did not despise faults
Nor repulse complexion
The me that could simply live as ONE
As if I could finally sense that beneath my hardened flesh
And weakened bones
I was in existence.
Aware of my ever-growing world.
Yet the end was foreseen
I just never expected it to be today
My fragile refuge is due to cave in
Its thin walls crumble and decay
until the only thing to breathe was your name.