Maybe those people walking alone,
talking to themselves can see their
loneliness and they talked back to it.
The defeated its purpose.
They won and we call them crazy.
The world became an “I will break
your heart before you break mine” game
and I think that the way you fearlessly
wear your heart on your sleeve is beautiful.
Oh, what a risky thing it is to allow yourself to feel.
It’s that thin line between heaven and hell.
The moment you fall or fly.
The second in which you live or die.
It gets so cold
when loneliness enters the scene
but the feeling is actually burning.
Burning with the desire to break free.
Burning with the desire to sleep in peace.
Burning when you remember things
the way they used to be.
Burning when you see the shadow of
the empty place that once had a heartbeat.
And so we decide it’s better to be alone
than to be hurt.
After years of experience we believe
it’s best to kill what makes us human
than to let it kill us.
So we fight during the day and surrender
to regret during the night because fear
never filled empty spaces, it just made
I am scared to let anyone touch me.
I am scared to let anything touch me.
I am scared because I can’t remember anymore
what I buried under these layers of denial.
I always believed happiness wouldn’t give me
a thing to write about but then I meet you and realized
that every movement of your imperfect being is a
poem waiting to be engraved on my skin