She dropped a glass,
as I was trying to sleep,
The sound of it
Reminded me of my miseries
 
Every thump on the desk,
Every knock on the door
takes me back to that night,
when I lost hope in life
 
There stood a monster behind the door,
ready to eat us alive,
Loud were those bangs, 
scary were his eyes.
We ran, hid, and tried to fight,
I must say, we barely survived.
 
Now that I’m through, my hardest I try,
to make sense of it, but i cannot be lying,
I truly do not know why I still cry 
If, after everything, I made it alive. 
 
A place, that my body escaped,
Holds my soul captive instead.
A place that broke my heart and spirit, both 
Can it really be called a home?

People, world, life,
You listen to every rant of mine,
And wipe every tear I cry.
You say it’s going to be over,
that it’ll get better as we get older.

I believe you; it’ll be alright,
After all, nothing lasts forever, right?
If good times don’t,
then misery won’t.

But If ‘forever’ is till the existence of my soul,
Everything I sense and everyone I know,
I’m sure that you’ll stay, 
Purple, pink, or my darkest day.

But if ‘forever’ is till the death of me,
At my grave, you’d stay on your knees,
You’d keep flowers on it, sit and grieve,
You’d cuss the God, Satan, and everything in between,
And I know for sure you’ll be the last to leave. 

And yet you wonder why I believe in the eternality of love.
Why I believe in its unconditionality?
Why in Kindness? 
Why in the elegance of passion?
Why in the beauty of every soul?
After all, all that I know of love,
is through you.

She dropped a glass,
as I was trying to sleep,
The sound of it
Reminded me of my miseries
 
Every thump on the desk,
Every knock on the door
takes me back to that night,
when I lost hope in life
 
There stood a monster behind the door,
ready to eat us alive,
Loud were those bangs, 
scary were his eyes.
We ran, hid, and tried to fight,
I must say, we barely survived.
 
Now that I’m through, my hardest I try,
to make sense of it, but i cannot be lying,
I truly do not know why I still cry 
If, after everything, I made it alive. 
 
A place, that my body escaped,
Holds my soul captive instead.
A place that broke my heart and spirit, both 
Can it really be called a home?