The sudden thoughts of failing before even starting. The unclear image of the future. The part where everything that you do eventually crumbles down. And feeling alone through it all. These thoughts makes you lie down and curl up on the bed, trying to pull what’s inside your chest while your swollen eyes can’t tear up anymore.
Have you ever felt so fucking sad that your heart feels like it’s going to explode any moment?
How could you let your inner chaos spill and ruin what we have created here. From fragments of ourselves cut to pieces, our nail draws and our blood smears the intimacy we once had— forever lost? We still cling to something that isn’t there hoping to find a reason and another cause and go back from the beginning and be bared, be stripped back from all the lies and pain that was brought by mistrusts and blames. Foundation built for years was demolished. Now, debris are falling on our dented shield. How could we both let it get this far? Is there anyway to salvage this love of ours?
Colors leaking outside of me, a once active imagination now unable to see and create tales as lively as before, I now live inside a dying world with a dried up source never knowing when it will replenish or should I just accept that soon every story inside of me will somehow perish?
To all the things I never said out loud, the ones I spent daydreaming about. I put in a box and no one knows. It’s in my chest and it’s always close. It’s in the coffin I buried and nailed— it’s the heavy breath I deeply exhale. I do not know how it still follows me, the regrets, the failed fantasies— all of it will eventually die with me.