I thought that—
you fucking liked me.
Hell, I even thought that—
you might have even loved me.

It felt like you did,
seemed like you did,
and looked like you did.

But you didn’t.

Why did you make me feel like
every sweet thing that ever was
is everything you ever gave me—
even though it’s not?

Why did you make me love you so much—
that I can’t even accept the truth,
and I just have to have something to blame
even though it’s my fault?

Maybe I wanted what I thought,
maybe I wanted you to notice me,
maybe I wanted you to like me.

Well, I did.

What I thought was sugar
is actually salt,
and the funny thing is that—
I didn’t even realise it because
I wanted that salt to be sugar.


You used to be brave and confident. You were the sun amongst the clouds that were about to bring rain. You were the spring in every winter. You were the fire matches wanted to have themselves get burned with. You were the one who brought life to a dead world. You were life itself.

But then something happened. I’m not sure what it is, but something definitely happened.

You have become full of fears and insecurities. You have started bringing storms everywhere. You have been summer and spring with winter to curse your everyday. You have stopped clinging onto matches and started burning anything you can burn. You look like the tragedy of life. You have become the dying.

You used to touch things and turn them into gold, not ashes. You used to smile like it was nothing but just another act of breathing, not a way of saying goodbye. You used to dance with chances, not run away from them. You used to wish for another day to live, not for a moment to end all the days that are yet to come.

I am in no position of telling you what you should be, but let me be honest with you. Who you used to be is a better person than who you are now. That person in the past? That person was living. That person was alive. And you? You are just waiting for death. You are just waiting for the ending.

Why have you become like that? I do not know how to help you even though I want to. However, it does not seem like I can help you at all. You are so distant and far away. I feel like if I ever try to do anything for you, you will not notice it. You are blinded by your misery, deafened by your anxiety and numbed by your pain. You have become dangerous to yourself. You have become the person who can bring his own death to himself. You have become your own grim reaper.

The very fact that you are still alive gives me hope.

I want you—the real you—back. I do not believe that you are the person with a time bomb for a heart. I believe that you can still be who you used to be. I believe that you can still live. Every dying person has a chance to be saved. Please, if you cannot save yourself, then let me save you. Let the world save you.

A Letter of Sacrifice

I have loved you more than ever and my feelings have yet to soften their cries. However, I am willing to stop them. I believe that my feelings for you are a burden, and if anything, the only option you’re considering is to break my heart in order to have me stay away from you. But, Beloved, before I leave, I have things to offer.

Break my bones. Turn them into your writing materials.

Skin me alive, Dear. Let that be the cover of your precious work. Let it be the cover of your book.

Make me bleed. You need an ink, do you not?

That is how I love you, Dear. If I were as much as a burden, then please do what you wish to make me become something useful to you.

The Darkness is the Sun

The Darkness is the Sun

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to replace the light coming from the sun with darkness? Let us just imagine it. Imagine the darkness passing through your curtains while you are doing something that may or may not be important. Imagine going outside and looking at the sun just to be greeted by dark rays. The rays love to touch the ground and make their presence obvious to us. What would it be like if the sun’s light became something that could not help you see. You are not blinded, but it makes you seem as though you are.

There are things that I cannot escape from no matter how hard I try to run away from them. No matter what I do, I am haunted by them. I have tried to get rid of them, but I cannot. Well, honestly, I do not even know how to. They like me very much, and they love making me feel like I should be buried already. They love to blame me for the things I have and have not done. They love to make me feel like I cannot trust anybody, and that I am always watched by others who can notice my flaws or who are judging me. They love to love me while I am hating myself more and more each day just because of how they make me see myself. They make me think that I should be ashamed of my own being. I know what they are doing to me, but I cannot stop them from doing the things that they do. They are my demons. And I am their victim.

The darkness is everywhere, and I can’t escape from it. The darkness is the sun, and I don’t even need to look at it directly to be blind.

That Empty “I Love You”

That Empty “I Love You”

Falling in love with him was a punishment. I had to give myself limitations. My happiness depended on his, but his happiness never depended on mine. I cared, he didn’t. Still, he’d tell me that he loves me. I’d believe him. However, believing was my mistake. Maybe I wanted those words from him. Yes, I did. But they weren’t enough. They didn’t feel right. He didn’t make them feel like they’re right.

Maybe he loved me through words, but I loved him through feelings. Maybe it’s what set us apart in the first place. Anybody could be loved through those words, but not anybody could be loved so easily with feelings involved.