And I am out with lanterns, looking for myself.

You made me believe in something that was not even true.

As if the clay you were made of,
was kneaded with rose water.

But why does everything you bring close to your heart must hurt so much?

I know that I am ruined, and that I'm ruining others.

This time the wounds aren't healing it's becoming more fresh as time passes by.

I was with them and yet I was alone.

In these times, appearances are more real than reality.

And sometimes, it's okay to miss what never belonged to you.

I might be the writer but you'll always be the words.

You will recognize happiness when you see it die.

My independence, which is strength, implies my loneliness, which is weakness.

I love remembering. More than living.

Because the people I most strive to please do me the worst injuries.

I just want a day where it feels like I'm not falling apart anymore.

Do not be absent for too long and ask about how I am, details die with time and stories change.

I break my own heart by expecting people to be as attached to me as I am to them.

You can decorate absence however you want, but you're still gonna feel what's missing.

This August I began to dream of drowning.

Pretty brown eyes and a mind full of thoughts.

My cry for help was so quiet that I couldn't hear it myself.