Failure slithered behind his tasty treat,
grinning silently in delight.
but the sweeping paw of Fate
had different plans tonight.
Failure whispered with a forked tongue,
I only come to play!
it was then that hunter became the hunted,
Her shadow looming in his way.
he'd mistaken a pawn for a rook -
in the dark he saw it clearly -
and when She roared, the earth shook.

Boy just take it easy
Boy just take it slow
Please don't give up now
You have so much further to go

Put that gun down boy
Step away from the ledge
All the demons your fighting
Don't have to stay in your head

Let me help you boy
Let me be your light
You and I together boy
We'll give 'em a hell of a fight

This is it boy
It's time for war
With me by your side
It'll be easier than before

We got this boy
We won't back down
We'll take 'em all on
We'll knock 'em to the ground

Boy let's take it easy
Boy let's take it slow
All the demons you fight
Will no longer call you home

"You play it perfectly, just like a recipe. But I don't want it perfect, I want it your way. Spread some identity over it".
She gives me an advice and I lose myself.

Pianissimo/Andante

I am ten years old. My parents had an argue. I reach for my mother with a glass of water, my brother is at school. With my right hand I set the glass in front of her, with my left hand I caress her shoulder. She screams at me and shove the glass on the ground. I am my mother's spilled water.
This is a memory.

Mezzo-forte/Vivace

I am thirteen years old. My father takes me to lunch. The whole time he complains about life and how things are going nowhere with my mother, still we have a good time together. With my right hand I hold the chopsticks, with my left hand I play with the napkin. Our eyes never cross, but we are in touch. I am at peace with them both. I am my father's cigarettes.
This is a lie.

Mezzo-piano/Andante

I am fourteen years old. My brother takes me to the movies everytime things get bad at home. Sometimes we watch two or three movies in a row, never go back before sunset. With my right hand I hold a cup of ice tea, with my left hand I check on his phone. I am my brother's merciful escapes.
This is an illusion.

"Did you hear me? You did a great job! Start practicing changing the dynamic, how does that sound?"

I thank her and leave. Such standard words, she must say them to many more students, no idea the impact they caused on me. I guess I am just doomed to overthinking anything at all. You see, that's the deal. With the right hand, play the melody, with the left hand, play the harmony. I guess I've been focused on the melody, in a world run by the harmony.
On my way home I stop to buy a pack of cigarettes. I light one up and set it on a table, watch it burning. I've quit smoking sometime ago, never really cared for the rush, much less for the taste. After all it's just about seeing how easy the smoke flies by.
I guess I will change the dynamic. From now on:

Crescendo

If you could look into the mind of an OCD sufferer, what would you see?
You would see bravery and fear fighting it out.
One side of the mind trying to reason with the other.
If you tell us to get on with it, it's because you don't see the amount of strength and determination that it takes to overcome a mental illness.

Why do I live?
I can count the number of times I've been happy on both hands.

Why don't I die?
It would be really easy to **** myself, I realise this.

But when I press the cold steel to my flesh.
I hesitate.

Death seems to be the ultimate thing I crave.
But my greatest fear.

I've spent too many nights sobbing into my pillow.
So I ask myself.

Why do I live?
I like seeing my family happy.

Why?
I like seeing my friends happy.

Why?
I like seeing anybody happy.

Why?
I hate seeing them upset.

Will I ever be truly satisfied?
I doubt it.

But, I want to try.

Why do I live?
I live not for myself. But I live for others.

Why don't I die?
Even though I don't believe it, people will be upset once I'm gone.

So when I press the cold steel to my flesh.
I put the knife away.

Death seems to be the ultimate thing I crave.
But if I let the urge completely erode me I will never be happy.

Happiness doesn't start once you die.
It happens when you learn to live.

To: Past Me
From: Future You

Hello, my past self.
I hope you’re doing well.
But then again,
I know you’re not.
Because I was you,
And you are me.

I know about all the smiles you’ve had to fake.
I know about all the silent tears your pillow is stained with.
I know about all the people you’ve loved and all you’ve lost.
I remember it all.

But listen,
It doesn’t get easier.
You will still go through hard times.
People will still leave you.
You will still feel sad sometimes.

It may not get easier...
But you do get stronger.
Strong enough to overcome it all.
The pain.
The tears.
The obstacles.

Small things won’t hurt you anymore.
Every rock in your way will turn into a pebble.
People will go and others will come.
But you'll be alright.

You’ll grow stronger.
You'll be wiser.
You'll get bigger (not in height though, we shall always be 5’2)
It may not get easier but you will be happy.
Of that I am sure.

So past self I tell you.
Dry your tears. You’re not alone.
You’ll be surprised of all you’ll overcome.
                                                                                         Love,
                                                                                         Future You ;)

She was a girl so tough,
Soft inside but showed to be rough,
Out came her vulnerable side,
Just during the tranquil nights.

Known as the girl who plays basketball,
But when alone, the poet inside her calls.
She must avoid the dove,
To not fall in love.

But every story has a prince charming,
Sometimes serving as a warning.
And there came one for her,
Who made her lose all her nerve.

He treated her like a princess,
But had his benefit in that.
His princesses were many,
The girl didn't know any.

Found out he cheated,
Though her heart bled,
She got up and took her pen,
And now the boy is a mere fan.....