Each slice to my skin vomits words I could never say,  
A relief I feel in each cut I make.  
I’m in this body, a body that isn’t mine,  
But the pain I feel will forever be mine.  

I don’t want anyone knowing the things I make this body feel,  
I don’t want anyone knowing I’m actually not okay.  
Because they’ll know those smiles and laughs were fake  
But for how long have they been fake?  

I swear, I’m not okay.  
And every time I get better,  
It feels like I was not bad enough.  
So I relapse.  

Tears stream down my face every night.  
For a while, I stopped.  
But now, nothing could stop me from hurting.  

And if someone or something did,  
When they leave,  
I’ll fall even harder.  
That’s why this time,  
I hope I won’t get better.

If you asked me what I like about you,  
I’d say something simple, like, “your humor.“

Because saying,  
“I love how deep and emotional your eyes are,  
how they pull me in,  
make me want to uncover the depths of your thoughts,  
the words you’re too afraid to speak,”  
would be too much, wouldn’t it?  

Or admitting,  
“I love your lips,  
how every word they form  
makes me imagine their touch,  
the way they’d feel  
tracing paths across my skin,”  
wouldn’t that be even stranger?  

So instead,  
I settle for “your humor,”  
because it’s safer  
than confessing the truth.

I cried today,  
in front of my mom.  
The tears fell, soft and heavy,  
after weeks of silence,  
after months of holding on.  

I’m still crying now,  
each drop a whisper  
of something I can’t name.  

Maybe tomorrow,  
I’ll cry into my friend’s arms,  
or maybe I won’t.  
Maybe I’ll laugh it off  
while the ache lingers inside.  

Why the tears?  
I wish I knew.  
Maybe it’s everything I’ve buried,  
or maybe it’s nothing at all.  
But they’re here,  
and they keep falling.

« A maze, you get lost.  
A labyrinth, you find yourself. »
But this love I feel  
only pulls me further away.  

The more I try to explore it,  
the more it unravels me.  
Every path I take  
leads deeper into the unknown,  
a place where even my shadow  
doesn’t feel like home.  

I search for meaning,  
for the way back to clarity,  
but all I find is more of you,  
and less of me.  

This love,  
a labyrinth with no center,  
no end,  
just endless turns  
where I lose myself again and again.

If I saw him loving someone else,  
Would I still love him?  
I’d say no  
but the truth? It’s hidden deep within.  

I’d tell myself I’m better off,  
That it’s his loss, not mine,  
But my heart would still ache,  
As if I were stuck in time.  

I’d smile and pretend to be fine,  
Act like it doesn’t hurt,  
But inside, a storm would rage,  
As I’d watch him love her  
and feel the weight of every word.  

Would I still love him?  
I can’t lie, I know I would.  
But I’d let him go,  
For the sake of what I should.

Maybe in another universe,  
I could see him loving me.  
In a world where the stars align,  
Where we’re exactly what we’re meant to be.  

But the truth is,  
we only have this one.  
And in this world,  
he loves someone else,  
and I’m left with the weight of what’s undone.  

Maybe in another life,  
things could be different,  
but here and now,  
it’s just me and the silence,  
wondering what could have been.