Just my life. Just my thoughts. Just me.

We all are liars. Lying to ourselves because we all are too weak to bear the truth of this fucked up world which destroys us all in the very end.

The right words can do wonders. The right words can build bridges and burn them down within seconds. They can open doors which once were barricaded. But sometimes, sometimes even words with such great power can't help. Even words can't rekindle what once was extinguished.  Even words can't heal the wounds you caused me.

I don't understand why I gave you so much power over me.

People always want someone better than who they think they are.  That's why you don't want me. And why she doesn't want you. And why he doesn't want her. But nobody wants to turn around.

don't get it in your head that all these poems are about you. Yeah, you are my muse but these words, these rhymes are about me. It's about my feelings and emotions and thoughts.  It's about how I deal with myself because of what you put me through. You are the trigger. Why I started writing. But I keep writing because of myself.

I should have known it all the way down. The moment you told me my heart was racing I didn't feel any change of your heartbeat.

There are plenty of boys and yes there is no one like him and no one is better than him. But trust me the next boy who will come around will be different. And he won't have a more lovely smile but his green eyes will let you forget the blue ones you loved so much a year ago. He won't be funnier but his humor is different and that's why you laugh even more when he tells you a stupid joke. And oh god, you could never imagine that you will love his a little too long dark hair so much. He won't be better. But trust me. People aren't made to be compared.

It's the little voice in the back of my mind that kills me. It's the voice in the back, full of hope like a small child who doesn't understand how this mad world works yet.  And somehow at 3 am this little voice has the power to convince every other to be silente and convince me that maybe if I change there will be hope.

You know I love you, right?

Maybe I should stop craving for the stars and be happy with the sea.

Please just tell me. I need to know. Am I not enough or am I too much to bear?

Is that your move? Is that how you make all the girls fall for you? You tell them something about your dead father under the beautiful starry sky and then don't call them for days?

People always call me sweet. Sweet, sweet little girl. Everytime. I'm sick of it. With you. It's different. You can call me sweet every day I wouldn't get tired of it. Please, please call me sweet every day for the rest of all days.

please just make me a good person because I don't have the strength to become one on my own. please help me to become what I crave the most but fail so hard at. please be a role model to my lost soul in this horribly mad world. please. please. please.