I lived for a dream.
I did everything for that one dream.
A dream which never came true.
A lie called Hope was the thing I began to feed myself
I gave my breath to it,
my voice to it,
I broke my sleep for it,
bled deep for it,
Ready to take in humiliation for it.
Did everything for it.
And now you simply say
I should forget.
You are not worth it.
So what now? Do I scream or stay quiet?
Should I leave? Push harder?
But how much harder?
I became a disappointment for my ownself
I hated to see my own reflection
I hated my pictures
Disappointment to your own is like,
To be suffocated in your own skin,
Is something I hope never comes to you.
What now?
The echoes in my chest sound like screams.
Is this what it means,
to bury your desires for the sake of others?
Every second I live
Feels like I'm losing somehow.
They will never know,
How close I was to slip away,
Into the silence.
Of the sunlight I will never see or hear.
I don't want a new dream.
I want mine back, even if it kills me.