#aloneunheardstruggling
I hated most of the things.
The things which made me feel filthy.
But most of all, I hated my childhood.
I hate it because I was not innocent.
I hated it because I was naive enough to think it’s okay.
It’s okay to watch.
It’s okay to show my eyes filled with lust to everyone.
But most of all, I thought it’s okay "It's never too late to turn back".
But by the time I understood, it’s always too late.
I had lost.
I had lost my life, my smile—the real one—my childhood when I was five, my beloved, my charm.
And the thing left was me: hollow.
Hollow deep within. No one to understand. No one to say, "I am here to listen."
And the thing left was me: shattered.
Shattered deliberately to join into a new work of art,
yet I was broken, cracks appearing.
The beauty only to see as the touch could stop everything.
Could stop everything in my little world.
And would have left the fragile me lying there.
Fragile, incompetent, annoying, a problem.
Every word fitted me, until I realized, I remembered:
I was hollow, shattered.
No room for feelings ever again.
Yet I cry.
Yet I cry,
to believe I can trust one day.
To believe I can love one day.
To believe, I'll be a new unbroken beauty one day....
Oct 22, 2025
Oct 22, 2025 at 8:54 AM UTC