Am I trapped,
Or is this just the way to be?
Am I alive,
Or is this just some cosmic energy?
Am I happy,
Or is this lack of agony?
Am I sad,
Or is this how it should be?
Am I floating,
Or the world is flashing past me?
Am I flying,
Or the universe is revolving around me?
Am I thinking,
Or the thoughts are piercing me?
Am I writing,
Or are the words playing hide and seek?

It started with fun nights and stopless laughter.
It started with sweet kisses in our blanket fort, warmed by the lights hanging above us and surrounded by the soft music repeatedly mumbling love words.

It faded into talking less and only hours within 2 weeks of seeing each other, but that didn't bother us.
It should have.
It faded into ignoring each other's texts and hiding from words that start with L, hopelessly wishing that the initial spark would hold up a house of cards instead of burning it down.

It is presently a mutual relationship of two acquaintances who act like they don't know what to do with their freed hands hanging loosely instead of being held.
It is presenty an awkward time for me. Where I don't want you, but I miss you, or the things you used to represent at least, like passion and things that aren't supposed to be.

Key words: aren't supposed to be.

love,
such a simple word
yet, held so much
for us to remember

love,
has turned
to be cruel
and worked against humanity

love,
has become racist,
not just for
the sake of society

love,
no longer held
meanings
from time to time

love,*
there's no such thing
called love
since the time has passed

It's been months since then
and I can't stop thinking that it's my fault

Tell my heart
to let go.

Who is this "you"
you write about?