I'll be yours if you want me too

 I turn into just a mad fool

Only because I caught a glimpse of him

I return to that "crazy in love" mode

And wanting nothing but his arms 

Holding me in an endearing hug

There's nothing in this world 

That I would like the most

I'll be all yours if you tell me truth

Prisoner

 A prisoner of loss can become a prisoner of hope. Hope that something will work out next time, some day. That the person will come back. That the money will come. That a cure will be found. Being a prisoner of hope is hanging suspended between two cliffs being held by nothing but thorny vines. 

I am a prisoner of loss and hope. Of all the memories of everything and everyone that I ever lost, plus being a prisoner of the hope that one day everything that is wrong will get solved. 

The impossible complexity

 Nowadays I can say I am so complex that no one can know me much. Yes, they can say some things I supposedly like and care for, just by having accompanied me in these last years on Instagram, for example, but the truth is I have done and showed things there on the moment triggered by something or someone in particular, so that's just something I have done with that purpose or because of them. Many times it had much more to do with others than exactly something that was characteristic of my personality. 

Besides, I didn't know that people don't have intrusive thoughts and an internal narrator; I thought everyone was always thinking of something, like I do. 

That's why having people that like me as I am with them even when I get more frustrated with them for some valid reason, is what I treasure more. Because people like that love you in the parts they know of you, that are very different from just being linear in personality. I'd say I'm linear in character but not in personality, that I have a broad scope. 

Today I thought of him in a metaphor as a diamond refractioned into his seven colours/personalities. The one I found more complex than me. His complexity isn't deeper than mine, but wider. I'm one, he's many. 

These last years of pandemic and all, It's just him for me

 I stopped believing in romantic love for myself in 2013 and till now I've been only refusing everyone who dares to mess with me. I know my true love, the love of my life, doesn't exist, but he is the only one for me. I'll die alone but he knows he was the one I was crazy for though he never loved me. 

I thought I was uninspired

 I thought I was uninspired, but then bamm! I saw you out of the blue and sentences came flying. "How I miss you". 

(but you don't really exist, do you? and I still think of the lyrics and how they would be true)

What a waste of life.

How I wich I knew what freedom feels like

 I was nothing but a vehicle to your things, a medium through which you could do your things with all the luck in the world. My love for you all my life has been just a suffering and an imprisonment. I was emotionally dependent all my life. How I wish I knew what freedom feels like. 

 I gave importance to so much shitty people for so long, it's ridiculous and annoying, the amount of people that ruined my peace and hurt me with their racism, their aggressiveness and everything else. 

You were the absolute most fckng awful people, believe you me. And I wish I had never crossed paths with you. 

Once the scapegoat, always the scapegoat?

 No one will never know the truth, because they only know the lies others who blame me for their own selfish decisions and slander me to make their narrative more believable. 

I still don't know how can a person harm another in every day of their lives, must really be a neverending pit of self hatred and frustration that they find the perfect victim to pour on, in my case I have been taking it costly since a kid wanting to die. 

At least I am closer to dying each day now, just suffering it away waiting for the end as always.

End it already

 Just stop it

Just end it

It was what it was

And it wasn't much

Until it was

And then too much 

But it's all over 

It's been since a long time 

And there was never a tie

Or anything of likes 

Nothing pendant 

Forget the regrets

He didn't even flinch

That last time

God, I mean

We've said goodbye 

A thousand times 

Jesus, c"mon help one out 

"It's a disease, I tell you"

It's all madness 

Beyond what's seen 

God damnit why the hell

Did I have to see him

Because I still crave that 

And rejoice too a bit

When entangled in his hair

Or caught again in his hands

Or his whole figure 

That changed entirely 

And never looked back

He's just like he was

Isn't him, with her too? 

 Art can never heal me entirely, because it's something that I have been doing and using as a coping mechanism especially after major daily hurdles.