Music from another time
Begins to fill my ears,
And my mind gets flooded
With memories of then.

Memories of happiness,
Warm like a sunny day in April;
Memories of love,
Ever-consuming and euphoric;
Memories of agony,
Hollow lies and hollow heart;
Memories of confusion,
Fog flooding my mind at all times.

But there is one memory that stands out more than the others:
The memory of my death.
How I slowly lost my spark,
And was too aware of the cold.
How I slowly lost all meaning,
And just wished for an end that felt real.
How I slowly lost myself,
And I wasn’t sure if I was worth knowing anymore.
How I slowly died,
And I didn't even realize until I built myself up again.

I didn't die with a last breath.
I could feel my lungs inhale and exhale the air.
I didn't die knowing I was dying.
I thought I was getting better.
I didn't die, in my head —
I kept moving, too fast to notice.
But I died in my memories.
And realized only now.

But I was born again.
I'm not writing from my grave,
I'm writing from my pedestal.
Like a statue rising from cold stone,
I carved myself into someone new.
Painful, like sculpting pieces of myself out
From the block of marble I'm working on.
Slow, because I only have my own hands
And no other tools to work.
Strong, like the quartz
I chose to use and cherish.
Elegant, like the lines and curves
That I'm chiselling.

I died.
And when I tried living again,
I got killed.
But I already died twice.
This time, I'll grow wings
And be the strong phoenix,
Returning from the ashes.

I realized I was turning into a boy,
When my sadness turned into anger —
The sight of my own bleeding knuckles
And marks on the wall scaring me.

I realized my soul had gotten louder,
When my sorrow turned into rage —
The thought of becoming the version she would've feared, once again terrifying me,
Knowing she's too vulnerable for this imagery.

I realized I was changing into myself,
When I remembered my fury was once called depression —
Becoming the wound
And not the wounded became my worst nightmare.

Intertwining my fingers with yours
A familiar, intimate touch —
But this one feels different.

I reach out for you,
Placing my ear over your chest
And listen to the soul's instrument:
Your heart, drumming against my lobe.
The rhythm gets fainter and fainter,
But I will accompany you always,
Even where our hearts no longer beat.

I interlock my fingers with yours again,
But this time,
It's not your hand I'm holding.

A warmth I've never felt before,
Yet feels like I’ve known it forever,
Fills my spirit.
Your soul,
My soul,
Finally free from this mortal flesh.

I see you,
The most vulnerable and naked part of you.
It's hauntingly beautiful,
And I don't think I could be capable of imagining
Something as ethereal and raw as you.

I embrace you,
Becoming one entity of grief and love.
We're not two bags of flesh anymore,
We are our darkest desires and fears.

I try to hold your hand again,
But it's gone —
Dissolved into warmth,
Into light,
Into everything I didn’t know I could love this deeply.

I've accompanied you in this new realm
As the new spirit that we've become,
But part of me wishes,
We could still be two different souls --
So I could embrace your warm hand again.

Admire them from afar,
Like the beautiful constellation they are.
You want to feel them close,
But is it worth it?

Your eyes will melt,
And your skin will burn.
You will turn into dust,
While they keep on shining and sinning
With their mere existence.

Is the cost of turning into ashes worth it,
Just to feel them close for a brief moment?
Where their brightness makes your irises explode,
And the heat makes your soul melt?

Is it all worth it,
Knowing it will end you and erase your timeline,
While this is just another fleeting moment
In the endless light of their life?

The sun is shining,
It's a warm day,
The air is filled with emotion:
It's the last day of school.

The air smells like broken pencils and cleaning spray,
Yet this one feels different.
The classroom bell is punctual like always,
Yet today it feels strangely far and nostalgic already.
The sun is warm as you get out of the building,
Yet it seems to evaporate the tears that threaten to fall on your cheeks.

Some are wishing goodbye,
Some are on their way home already;
Some are crying and hugging their favorite people,
Some are happy about not seeing those familiar faces again;
Some are taking pictures and selfies,
Some are content enough with their memories.

It's an unreal experience:
This day that felt so far away,
Is suddenly here;
This day I was so desperately longing for,
Is suddenly here;
This day that felt so big yet so insignificant,
Is suddenly here;
This day that felt like an empty promise,
Is suddenly here.

Do I like it?
The suddenness of this day,
The way we get thrown in the unknown,
The dreamlike haze of it all,
The way we feel so old and weary,
The loss of what we knew,
The way we feel like we are so new to this world,
I ask myself, do I like it?

A part of me is celebrating,
Because it's a happy day:
No more stress and nerves;
No more despised people nor situations;
More time to ourselves and our loved ones;
Our minds drift to summer skies.

But a part of me is melancholic already,
Because it's a sad day:
Will I get to see my classmates again?
Will I see my friends as much as I did at school?
Will I be remembered by my favorite teachers?
Will someone feel my absence?

A part of me wishes I could go back:
To live the memories again,
To cherish some people more,
To do better,
To fix the mistakes,
To be the perfect memory in everyone's mind.

But a part of me wants to move on,
And make new memories,
And cherish who actually matters,
And grow from where I am now,
And learn from the mistakes,
And be who this life and year made me today.

Everything comes to an end,
Even if it feels so far and impossible.
Everything comes to an end,
Even when we promise it won't.
Everything comes to an end,
Even if you don't like it.
Everything comes to an end,
And I think I've learned the lesson now.

I've lived so much,
And yet my life is only just beginning.

One day, i am going to grow wings,
And leave this place behind and never look back.
One day, i am going to grow wings,
And live as myself forever.
One day, I am going to grow wings,
And be the person I needed then.
One day, I am going to grow wings,
And not be scared of the height.
One day, i am going to grow wings,
And be free.

My wings will be big,
To support the weight of my grief.
My wings will be large,
To have the stability i never had.
My wings will be clean,
To remind me of the dirt in my soul.
My wings will be strong,
To fly high and fast from the depths of myself.
My wings will be light,
To make me feel like i never even had them in the first place.

In a fantasy world,
My soul is pure.
In a fantasy world,
My heart isn't hurting when left alone.
In a fantasy world,
My mind isn't my enemy.
In a fantasy world,
My existence isn't something to fight for.
In a fantasy world,
I will grow wings.

She was a pretty little mess,
One two many drinks,
A silly teenage fool,
One that doesn't think.

They all called her a *****,
She wore a very short black dress
They said: "***** little ****!"
She thought: "but am I pretty yet?"

She danced against the wall
Until she caught an eye
She stumbled to the settee
Sat down on someones knee

They didn't talk for long,
No, they didn't speak at all;
Only breaths and gasps and whispers
The sound of a mistake

Of course, she had planned this all
And hoped that he might call
She blamed it on the drink
She said she didn't think

This happened many times,
Each night a new regret
And every morning she wondered
"Am I pretty yet?"