Being a part of someone's journey through life
Feels rather strange when those times change,
Memories fade
On this road of life, you used to drive
All by yourself
Always feeling alive
Having a good time
You now sense the impending doom
Of sharing room
With that someone
Sharing this space in life
You wake up relinquishing control over your own
Pondering if that person was somebody you had known,
Realizing they are not the one you'd what them to be
Now those pangs of solitude
They come and go like clouds in a windy sky,
With a mixture of contentment and relief
I sigh!
Now understanding that I alone can be,
The sailor of my ship in the sea.

Love... is a fickle thing.
It is beautifully horrible,
Intoxicatingly sobering,
painfully euphoric.

When you're in love,
your partner's pains are yours
and your's, theirs;
You share with one another for better or for worse
You do your damnedest to ease their pain,
but sometimes, you simply can't...
An awful feeling, of helplessness...

But love is also healing.
Your partner will bring light to your life like never before
They glow radiantly, which you seek with fervent passion
To bask in your partner's glow is the most wonderful feeling
Every laugh
Every smile
Every touch
Every moment
Is pure ecstasy to be shared

When you're in love you share the good and the bad,
For better or for worse
And even though I'm in pain now,
I wouldn't have it any other way.

Because I love you.

I hate you; I hold you accountable, I hold a grudge against you

But

My hate expires, the accountability fades, my grudge becomes forgotten.

Why?

Because the time I can hate you can only last for so long

It was never my nature to despise you

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I still can respect you, help you, befriend you

But why do you hate me?

Hold me accountable?

Hold grudges against me?

Why am I hated on when I never hated you?

Why do I hate you?

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Why am I different than you?

Is it because I’m weak? Insignificant? A loser?

Because maybe I am

And I feel those traits seep through the already cracked image

As I cry myself to sleep

And maybe

Just maybe

I’m scared to show my true emotions: my anger, sadness, terror to you

Why?

Because why should I

Why should I show my emotions to someone who hates me

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Is my ethnicity a problem? My opinion? My public presence here around you something you hate?

Is this opinion of me taken overly by me?

Maybe

But there’s always a reason

Why.

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Maybe I look confident, strong, brave. But that’s because society will only accept me like that

Society morphed me on what the public eye approves of.

But it’s only a mere shell that protects me.

I would love if those traits actually describe ME

But they don’t

And they never will

And whenever a crack appears, and you poke it

It breaks

It shatters into a million pieces

Years of my suppressed self-image, my hidden emotions, my fears and dark secrets flood out

And you can make laugh at them as they spread like wildfire everywhere

It doesn’t matter in the end if I rebuild my shell

Because the damage is done

But you don’t know how it feels because you were never hated on

Because you hold your self-image higher than me

It is worth more value than me

Because you are pretty, popular, well known

As I

I am quiet, scared, sensitive, afraid, desperate, lonely

And I know I have help

I have friends, family, teachers

Who all love and support me

But my shell is already cracked

From your hate

Your grudge

And I could never fight back

Because you have so much more than me

You were already socially accepted

You didn’t have to change

I could never fight back

Because I’m scared of going through the cycle again

Bringing all the support down with me

Hurting them

Because of that stupid crack

In my shell

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And I know

Why you hate me

And I can understand why you chose me

Because you thought I could handle the blows, the threats, the hate you give to me

But I can’t

Because I was never made like that

I’m weak

I’m the different person in the crowd

I'm a different ethnicity

The only fighter,

That would only stand up to be pummeled down by their own self image

Of your wrath of hatred

Because you wouldn’t care of what I did to you

The help

The support

You only wanted to preserve your self-image

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That's why I

Hate you

Hold you accountable

Hold a grudge on you

Even if time is going to swipe it all away

I will still remember

That you believe your self-image is more important than the weak shell of a person

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But maybe

Just maybe

If I could share the story of hate

About self-perseverance

About the bias society

Then maybe

They'll understand

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