To the woman…

Who slits her wrist every fuckin’ night, drowns her soul in alcohol, overthinks even only because of the smallest of things and shuts the door because she fears to trust. Pillows and blankets she wet, hoping to pull out thorns and lighten the burden.

That same girl, who expected a lot from people whom she thought would stay, yet left her alone when the storm visited. Who tried to cry for help but was misunderstood for she wasn’t able to express well.

Who was she to be blamed for all of the things that has happened to her? Was it really her fault that she’s now fueled with sadness and anger?

Was it really her fault when a stranger took her light away and made his way through? Was it a mistake, getting eaten by cowardliness causing her not to speak up about the truth as soon as possible? Was it, people?

Is it wrong to try healing all by thy self, so that her hopes of not being a burden to the people she (loves) thought that would stay by her side when she explodes, like a balloon which couldn’t hold much air inside?

The thing is, you people stick so much with ideals when you also believe that no one’s destined to be perfect. Doesn’t that make you hypocrites, causing further chaos to the ones whose lifelines are getting brittle day by day? Please, people. At least try to her her out instead of throwing judgements.

As for you, young beautiful woman, it was never your fault. Fear’s always a legit reason for all of your miseries. Who would have wanted or expected life to go too fast? There are 7 billion people in this world and there will always be that one person who will listen. You can think of me as one.

If you leave your town, it doesn’t make you a coward. It means you want to give life a second chance. There are some many things in life, and so many people like you; like us. Go on, my dear. Continue living. As long as air runs through your lungs, it will be never too late to start over. I love you.





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