This is the past of my fragmentation, my dear Dino.
Collections of thoughts and fears I had before I met you that have seemed to have left since I started being with you... it's a vulnerable slice indeed.
"I had moments where I saw and moments when I did not. I thought for so long I trapped myself, that it was my existence that was the problem. I saw again and again the problems, the things that hurt, but let them go, thinking that maybe I should hate myself since everyone else is doing it. I am giving it my all, and not to myself, but for the sake of the distant star awaiting.
I have realized I am too far gone in some regards. Arts I am not good at are my only binding agent that alleviates my putrid, immature sorrow. Someone said to me that hunger is supposed to derive from a defense mechanism used as coping. However, I would like to believe that something like excessive hunger of any kind arises from being scared. Scared of things not being in my control, having to run away. My defunct, fissured, devolved eyes have been engulfed by strands of firm hair. Yet my eye bags in the distance of the mirror are there, looking at me, spinning the reflection that is trying to portray the message of self-infliction. I've wondered a lot, to the point where I can't look past a bird without thinking of it as a plane. Something I do believe is that similarity can kill the one that looks the same but is in fact unique. Everyone has their own pair of eyes. It is difficult to gouge out your eyes and replace them with someone else's. Usually no one does this much to understand another. If someone were to do this, they would indeed be offering unconditional love, but yet again, my eyes are mine and your eyes are yours. At the end, your retina will still see the shadow I am not.
It was practically slicing a thin amount of skin, allowing for the shedding of a minute amount of blood, representing the sparing of my existence.
Very nice interpretation of my name on your end, but do not call me by the name I was given.
Forsaken by both the impeding turd and the wretched plastic of the received heart, I was left there, standing along the edge of the fracture.
Inflated wonder deep within the spiced steep of hope is extinguished with the water from the pond that belongs to a wraith.
Ravenousness, blame appertaining to the innocence of a child turning putrid, exists as the correlation that tunnels together monsters.
Portraying beauty in words is difficult due to the utter quantity consisting of miserable brain sweat experience the writer transfers to a leftover tree. That's why I must portray suffering.
I wonder "how," but the "who" does not let me be an "a," but instead makes me an "if."
If you do not seek to elaborate, I would not be able to perpetually see.
Stuck in the gray, reaching for light but pulled back by darkness. I want my shade to change.
Is it my own incompetence that leads to the field of dry anguish?
Striking and striking in that place that hurts without pondering. I wish my life, who I am, who I feel like, who I am, wouldn't be caught as a misunderstanding based on so-called traditions and bias.
See things for what they are, not for what you think they are.
Whenever I have to fiddle, I see arms that do not belong to me. I want to reach with these arms into a pot of acid. I want to burn them.
Am I an individual left without the glowing radiance that the common possess?
I don't want to breathe anymore. I want to die... but I breathe.
I can't capture my thoughts in the ways I want. One day, if I could, maybe I will receive "love."
I can write poems and stories about you, but no matter how much I try, you won't exist.
There is this hole I want to fill. I keep trying, but every time I fail, it gets worse.
I keep thinking of how nice it would have been to never have been born.
I avoid the existence, the hand that was dealt to me, but it still hurts.
I look in this mirror and I see this stranger.
Perhaps if I was a god, I would destroy everything to create the peace of mind of people that don't exist.
I hate the name I was given. It reminds me of all the times as a shell, following the rules of the ordinary.
I contradict myself.
I think I am not a good person, but also not a bad person. I'm just a person.
I think a lot, but no one thinks about me.
I wish I had control over my life. I didn't want to live, so at least let it be less painful.
The shadow wants to eat me. It takes everything I want. It takes the love, it takes the joy, and it leaves me to suffer. If I were the sun, I wouldn't have a shadow.
How do you remove your shadow?
Mine is a very sure shadow.
Wish I could cut it away. Maybe if I did, it would die. Maybe that shadow deep within me will be put out by a bright light.
I am afraid of the non-conversing. If I wasn't, maybe there wouldn't be an "it."
It has my legs. It has my hands. It has my heart. But all it is is an "it."
Maybe if the "it" was something else, I'd be someone else.
I don't want to be "it."
Maybe in another life I was a sister.
Maybe in another life I was a daughter.
Maybe in another life I had female friends.
Maybe in another life I was treated as a woman.
Maybe in another life I was a bride.
Maybe.
If I could, I would wish to be a mother, to care and nurture a child the way I never was. Why was I robbed of my life?
If only I could experience girlhood like any normal girl.
This empty hole deep within me screams to be filled, but whatever I dump in it gets swallowed by my existence.
If I was never born, the thorn that makes me bleed would have withered and my wound would have healed.
The expression I show is limited. No words can suffice.
I wish I were a piece of fiction so that my ending wouldn't be death.
Should I shatter the moonlight or should I get shattered by the lunar dust located where my peace is?"
You know, Dino, the moon isn't so far away now. I feel at peace because I have you. I'm just Dino's girl, and you are just Apa's boy. I have such a strong Dino, don't I? He managed to pull me out of true past fragmentation.
I don't just love you, baby. You are so much more than that.
Mwah. Lots of kissies for my lovy.