I've been told I was the one
but I always managed to turn
into the first one
of many others
Am I of any good
or am I just that boring &
extensive chapter of that
one old book
on the dusty shelf on your
basement?
Sometimes I may be hard to read
I understand that,
but I would never leave you waiting
for a nonexistent plot
just to find out that
in the end,
I am still the same
sad & hard cover old book
lost in between many others
in that shelf
inside your mind.

The destruction is a struggle
but also a desire
and I long for it
more than I ever longed for
anything
in a lifetime.

The fire spreads while you touch me
gently
I know your lies, and i've known
all of them
for years
six years
i can see your odd blinking &
i can hear your trembling voice
when you say
you have to go back home
or to go back to your
stuff
with has nothing to do with me
and it's okay to try to protect
someone who's been hurting for
more than two decades
but it's not fair
to treat this person
as someone who's as weak & innocent
as a kid
that wouldn't know how to handle
the truth
i can be hurt & i know how to hurt people
and it can be dangerous
because i know where to put the
sharp words & leave no traces behind
but you're not me
and your lies have been as sharp
as my own words when used as a weapon
but i don't know if these
wounds will heal anytime soon
unlike when i am the one
who inflicts them myself
because i don't care if they will heal
because i wanted the pain
because i longed for the wound
to be open & reopened
as time passed by
but your lies are like a razorblade
slipping back & forth
through the same wound
you've inflicted on me
many years ago.

It burdens me
i guess it's life
but then i think
it's only
myself
and every now & then
i have to get rid
of what's inside me
which means getting rid
of all the other selves
that insists on trying
to control my mind.

I'll still be waiting for you in the silence
when all my souls are set on fire
only to give you space
to find home
inside of
me.

She was half a woman
and half a forest on fire,
you'd either die by her soft hands
or carbonized by her warm breath.

Once I met the moon
she used to be so reckless
but still bright & perfectly flawed
i don't know if she will ever
know about it
but i fell in love with her
in the very first moment
i lied my eyes upon
her shiny pale skin
i asked how she was doing
and she locked herself in the bathroom
i punched walls
ripped myself apart
cried
until there was no more tear
left within
and it seemed forever
until she got out
only to ask me
why i was like that
i'm so sorry, little moon
i can't be better & won't
ever
be the perfect
partner
because when you
destroy yourself
little by little
i die inside
and those dead pieces
come to haunt me at night
can't you just stop with the hurting?
i can't stand these ghosts anymore
i loved you, little moon
i still do
but i can't love the destruction
you drag yourself into
because once you're done with it
there will be none of me
left
to hold you tight
and say that you
still shine bright
like you used to.