Love is not soft life the movies, or even how your mom tells you as you fall asleep as a young child.
love pushes past all your limits not caring how much it will destroy you, love basks in your pain.
cupid is a cruel man, that evil bow of his stabbing and twisting deep inside you.... yet you welcome it, you want it to strike you, hoping it will let someone love you the way you think love is.
but it never does.... it's never the right one, or the right time.
anything and everything trying to stop you, well cupid laughs in your face.
your mother never tells you how loving someone who doesn't love you back will ******* destroy you.... there is nothing like it.
the nights you spend hoping that one day they'll look at you even just a little how you look at them.
you spend hours ripping yourself apart because they so easily make you feel like not enough, probably oblivious to all of it because they don't care, they never did, and never will.
so now you live though some small fragments of who you used to be, hoping that one day everything will go back to normal and you can forget them and what they did to you.
but love doesn't work like that, it's wired in a way where you'll never forget.
love scars so deep yet so easily.
before you can even exhale you've fallen so far down that it feel's like your going to suffocate.
love is not dancing in the clouds, or singing in the rain, it's not falling asleep in the arms of comfort.
it's stabbing, and wounds.... blood dripping from parts of yourself you didn't even know existed, it's crying and crying and crying because you aren't enough in the eyes of the person you worship.
it's drowning out yourself just to hear their voice.
it's becoming a shadow and distant reflection of who you used to be, with their initials engraved on the marrow of your hallowed out bones.  
love is not soft and beautiful like an early morning breeze.
it's so close to death, but you never really truly end the suffering and die.

i’m a functioning mess
or am i too depressed to move in this life like a chess?

am i not worthy enough,
or am i too stiff to fit in a formal-attire environment?

i thought i had made my best moves
but oh i forgot i am not the only writer in this life
as i breath the air that we are in, i feel suffocated, caged, and confused

i think i am too dumb and too numb
so i burn myself in the hearth of fire
they say “do not self-diagnose”
but i sink, quietly, into the idea of death

hey mom, your daughter’s not herself anymore
she forgot how to make important conversations
and lost her mind in the abyss of emotions
i guess my sadness is not worthy to be known in the media
so i’ll be leaving a lot of trivia

i befriended my worst of self and let her live
she laughs at me and i let her thrive
i don’t think i am deserving
i feel like i am abdicating
instead of sky-rocketing

should i turn back to where once i felt safe?
or has the door closed behind me, locked with the grace of my own farewell?

i promised not to go back, because i’d make nothing out of my old life
i just let myself sit in my room, zoning out with my own intrusive thoughts

my mind drowns in the ocean of “what ifs”
twisting itself to the past,
rewriting memories at speed i can’t control
too much what ifs leads to overthinking
and i am suffocating

i wanted to sit down and tell Him my stories
but too ashamed since i have a lot of unsaid sorries

the prayer mat stays untouched,
like a letter i was too afraid to send
i am a never-ending guilt-ridden, self-sabotaged being
all i do is weeping
counting apologies i don’t know how to speak

I overslept again today.
Terrified of living life.

Too afraid.
To chase the sun.

I wish on the stars.
To play their part.

Wondering if I will ever be,
Good enough?

To live the life I've always dreamed.
Instead of falling fast asleep.

There's no room for me to breathe.
Suffocating and sabotaging.

The life I want for the life I don't.
Wasting away another day.

Running on empty.
Will it always be this way?

Instead I'll fall fast asleep.
Dreaming of what my life could be.

it is no surprise
that it feels
so suffocating
with a mask held
this firmly in place

I’m clawing at my chest,
Because I want to make this itching ache stop
But I am unable to reach into my chest and grasp my stomach and clench my heart;
I am unable to tell it to stop its fluttering
Just as I am barely able to hold back the sob that wants to rip through my throat in an agonizing scream.
BUT I CAN'T.
Because I can’t do anything.
I have no control.

And normally I would be okay with that,
But in these moments losing control is the worst thing
Because it is the one thing I so desperately need.
Just when things are going well I collapse into myself again like an exploding star.

The cycle is repeating.
This is the hardest part. It’s the most painful.
It is crying all the time
It is anxious
It‘s having fidgety hands
It's headaches from furrowed brows
It's seeing the inadequacy of yourself and not being okay with it.
It's like having a microscope on yourself
Its being exhausted all the time because you can’t stop the overthinking, the analyzing, or the constant pity parties and comparisons

I’m sick of being so emotionally fragile.
I just want to move on to the next stage already
To the numbness that follows
So I can stop caring
Stop crying
Stop hurting so **** much

I just want it all to go away.
I want the pain and hurt to go away.
This ache isn’t numb, it's not sharp, but rather it is suffocating.
It is hands around my throat squeezing  just tight enough so that I feel like I'm dying, but aware that I can still breathe.

My city...
I was here before it was even one,
my toys are older
than the high-rise buildings.
Yet all of my oldest dreams
have long been gone,
this is where new people
from far-away are dreaming.

People dream to visit here
even for a day,
I can't count the years
I've been trying to escape.
People travel here
to have a sip of coffee,
even the taste of water here
can tell that I am sick.

In the inner city,
while everyone takes photographs,
I try my best to walk
with my shoulders not dropped.
In the chic cafes
where others strike a pose,
I knew I never wanted more,
I had my dose.

My city,
that many people dream
of visiting and living in,
why, then there's me
who's here and feeling livid in.
My now-larger-city
that still feels like a small town,
I feel suffocated,
as if all my life I'm in a tight gown.