I Fumble through the dark
Hopeless. Stray dog.
I lie there in constant thought. of
Found myself by rambling
through carefully spoken paragraphs,
flattering speeches and romantic monologues.
but they are nothing, without
Nothing, after all
That's all that I ever was to
So I'll be nothing, I am silence…
Yet I hear your piercing whispers!
I am steeled against myself.
But your knife plunges into my empty chest.
Who is guilty of the sin in the end?!
the bitterest, bitter
trying to reach out the flag out from here
most hidden, more hidden
How does anxiety-disorder feel like?
My heart is too wild
I’ve loved too much, maybe
Handing out pieces of myself
Showing my soul too freely
Guilty of wanting too much
Guilty of taking until they hate me.
I know I stay too long
And take more than I should.
And I’m forever admitting that I’m wrong
Because I am, and we both know it.
I take the good in people and waste it
It’s wasted on me
Like a pitcher of water is wasted on a wildfire.
I’m a terror, because I don’t lie about love
But I can’t accept yours.
So what you give me evaporates
You will leave spent, but I will want more.
I know better-don’t we all?
And none of us learned any lessons
From pain that hurt this badly
Nor from love that healed our miseries.
Guilty of keeping score
Guilty of losing my self-control
Never enough and always too much.
Does it matter, when I am a speck of dust
In an infinite number of particles
What I’ve done and what I haven’t?
It matters only to me
For you, for one moment it hurts
But tomorrow you are free
And afterwards, when tomorrow comes
I am still guilty.
Dark and sensual.
These secrets kept,
Are protected by a
Peer through your
Rose colored glasses;
It honors me to wear
Your fingers like a necklace.
the hot water rained down
on my cowered head
as i scrubbed my flesh
until my skin glowed red
but i could never wash away
the guilt that marred my blood
it had seeped into my bones
turning my heart into mud
I don't wanna hurt you.
I don't wanna let you down.
I don't wanna make you cry and feel for myself guilty.
For who I am.
I have to let you go.
It's no one's fault.
I'm sorry I have to go.
as i sit tense on this plane, i wonder
am i closer to you up here?
do you truly look from the heavens?
do you protect me from regrets?
sweet small talk
fills the child with lies
as murderous eyes stalk
they seek to bleed you till you die
paranoia is incorrect
fear is easier to accept
either way, doom will be met
“mommy, can you do it for me?”
a guilty question wrought in youth
“my love, can you set me free?”
an age-old concept based on truth
death is inevitable and too powerful
shaking, i refuse to accept that
i am ashamed to still be fearful
in my comfort zone, i’m glad
if i join you
what should i say?
i might die once more if i do
simply because you were such a light
a ray that shone upon my darkness
your warm embrace held me quickly
and released all too soon
and if i may tell you,
on the next blood moon...
i truly do love you.
I m careless about God
because praying give me a mental breakdown
The more I ask for forgiveness
the more guilty I feel
It's a never-ending circle.
I left praying for the last two years.
and I m doing better without Gods
at least for now.
I forgave myself, so
in a way, I forgave you too.
I hope you find reasons
to forgive yourself too, so
in a way forgive me too
for all the sins we committed
when we were in a dream
A sinner from your formal heaven.
Wind of disappointment.
Dry drops of my hate.
I don't hold you. I hate you. Constricted heart.
Short signs of jealousy.
Despairing tightly skin.
I don't hold you, go.
Who is guilty?
I guess no one.