The world was not made to hurt you.
When your chest feels like it may
collapse and your heart feels like
it’s locked up inside your stomach,
unable to break free, you aren’t
allowed to blame anyone but yourself.
The harsh reality of it all is that
all the pain, all the suffering
that lingers over you in dreams
and waits for you at the end of the
hallway was put there by you.
When you wake up in the morning
and the sunlight is streaming perfectly
through your window and all you
can focus on is that stain on your
shirt, you’ve done that to yourself.
You wrapped yourself in a blanket
of sadness and you want to escape.
You put so many layers around your body,
hoping that it would keep you warm,
but now you’re suffocating from the heat
and feel like you need to rip it to shreds.
These layers were supposed to help
you, but, my dear, it’s not that easy.
You’re going to have to wake up every
morning and open your windows wide
so you can greet the morning, so she can
kiss your cheeks with warmth and
fill your body with a feeling that you
don’t understand. You have to smile
at every living being, you have to
talk to plants even if people think that
you look like a psycho. The hatred that
surrounds you will then fall, piece by piece,
slowly but surely, around you.
How could you let the sadness absorb you?
When your chest feels like it may
collapse and your heart feels like
it’s locked up inside your stomach,
unable to break free, you aren’t
allowed to blame anyone but yourself.
The harsh reality of it all is that
all the pain, all the suffering
that lingers over you in dreams
and waits for you at the end of the
hallway was put there by you.
When you wake up in the morning
and the sunlight is streaming perfectly
through your window and all you
can focus on is that stain on your
shirt, you’ve done that to yourself.
You wrapped yourself in a blanket
of sadness and you want to escape.
You put so many layers around your body,
hoping that it would keep you warm,
but now you’re suffocating from the heat
and feel like you need to rip it to shreds.
These layers were supposed to help
you, but, my dear, it’s not that easy.
You’re going to have to wake up every
morning and open your windows wide
so you can greet the morning, so she can
kiss your cheeks with warmth and
fill your body with a feeling that you
don’t understand. You have to smile
at every living being, you have to
talk to plants even if people think that
you look like a psycho. The hatred that
surrounds you will then fall, piece by piece,
slowly but surely, around you.
How could you let the sadness absorb you?