Before every pistanthrophobic,
There is an unbearable betrayed.
Maybe just a gift,
For which i will be always thankful for...
The scars you gave me,
Made way for my tears to seep.
Right through my heart,
In the underwater treasures of an hidden darkside.

Maybe trust is the most fragile thing,
Handle it with close attentions.
You never know who is the one,
Whom to trust,
Whom to void,
Though this is the game of life.

People change,
Love hurts,
Friends leave,
Things go wrong,
But life goes on.

Maybe you will never know,
Cause i will never show...

closing latches,
pistanthrophobic, antifocused
brown books full of
wet matches

pounding iron to iron
lips to live wire
sparking and convulsing like
torn off lizard tails, like
a fruit fly holding on
when the wind has other
plans for her

when the wind has other
plans for fire
flames just laugh
while drinking them

so why are my flames contemplating
containment and compliance?

I'm laughing.

I don't know. I really need to laugh. Maybe because of the overwhelming sadness? But then I started to sink, slowly, kneeling on the floor. My shoulders shake, from uncontrollably fast to the pace of my beating heart. My hair falls in front of my face, hiding its ashen appearance. I'm torn. Cliché moment, I know. Someone tried to move, maybe to comfort me. My mouth opens before I can stop it.

"Stop. Don't move."

They know me as the girl who's always happy, doesn't get affected by their rudeness, has a lot of patience, and always smiling. It's actually really easy to act happy all the time. But, the sad thing about it is that they will never ever take me seriously. They'll only approach me if they need something. I seriously regret having put a mask on, to hide my true self. My goal was to make the people around me happy. I'm a clown, I guess. Nobody takes a clown seriously. Me, a clown.. a very emotional, pistanthrophobic clown.

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