Eyes as windows

He told me it’ll only hurt at first.
He told me it won’t take long.
He told me it’ll make things better.

Sure, at the beginning, it hurts.
Then it hurts more.
Then it hurts so much.
It hurts too much until it hurts no more.

We see people on the streets.
At home.
In school.
At work.
Everywhere in everyday.

Although these people we see are living,
Some of us are dead inside.
If you look through the windows of my body,
You’ll see the ruin in me.
Death lives within me.
He resides in my body.

Death took one look and one look only.
He saw I was falling apart.
He saw things crashing down within me.
He saw hope running low from me.
He saw where he could be.
He knew what I’m going through
And that’s when he decided where he’ll stay.

He offers me his company
For the times I was down and lonely.
Then finally he asked me to let him stay.
He told me it’ll only hurt at first.
He told me it won’t take long.
He told me it’ll make things better.
My body as his shelter
In exchange for my pain and sadness to go away.

Death wants to dominate this body,
So first, he touched the armor of my strength—it rots.
It made the pain unbearable for there is no strength to endure.
Second, he put out the flame of my kindness.
Death doesn’t like warmth, so he made everything cold.
Third, he flick off the switch of my emotions
For pain and sadness to be no more.
Lastly, he blew the little candle of hope in me.
Death likes darkness so he puts out anything that glows.

I know I’ve decided this.
I know this is my own doing.
I’ve turned myself into something so pitiful.
I gave up on myself and let others take authority.
I thought this is better
Not feeling anything at all
I thought this is cooler
Not caring about a single soul
I forgot that I have my own soul too
Now, look into my eyes, I scream for help.

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Heavy

a time comes in our life that we discover a part of us that we
don’t like.
and we keep on denying that it’s not who we are, that’s not how
we were brought up, that’s not who we will be.
and then we wonder what triggered those things, who made us
this way, what are we going to do.
then it becomes a burden in our hearts, weighing down our every
gasping breath for clarity, for peace, for freedom.
we pass people on the streets and think, “Can they feel my feet
dragging on cement at every step I take? Can they see beyond my
eyes to the crying soul beneath? Can they hear my double and
rapid intake of air as if I were a fish out of water and can’t get
enough of it?”
maybe some people did but were hesitant to take the first step.
maybe some people did but they just didn’t care.
maybe some people did but when they do try to hold out their
hands to us, we shut them out.