Life is hard
It gets really hard sometimes
From small things,
Small fears, small worries, small problems
Day by day it gets piled up
Thought I’ve able to take a control of it
Thought I’m already okay
Without realizing that those piles are actually still there
Until one single thing added up to those pile
Causing all of them to break apart
That’s when I realize
I’ve never been okay
Those small things are piling up
To the point where I can’t bear anymore
Where I fall to my knees
And my tears break
I feel like I barely hold on
I wish I could just let go everything
I wish I could end all of these
Is dying the answer?
To end all the pain I hold in this world
The pain of incapable of doing anything
The pain of keep wishing life will get better but never knowing when
The pain of trying to live with this pain
These are a few of the words I use to describe myself.
I studied the rain drops glide down the glass of the window.
I voluntarily let the nostalgia pound at my chest.
With every aching memory, I finally shed the tears that were trying to evaporate instead of pour out.
Eventually, the window and I had the same amount of water drip downward upon us.
I am the window.
Still and innocently being pounded with the various weather.
When roses bleed thorns-
it’s time to prune them.
Waiting for seasons to change-
is like waiting for silence to resolve-
conflicts- a game of pride and rank.
I wasn't able to blow a balloon
Wasn't able to let it fly to the moon
I told my dad and he laughed
Got me another and a dozen more
So I kept them safely in a room and closed the door
Opened the door everyday
to check on them but not to play
One week later they stopped flying
They never reached the moon
They were on my floor dying
I also never blew a balloon