Who am i without the melancholy, delusions, yearning, fantasies, optimism, pessimism, daydreaming, nostalgia, longing, rage, crippling social anxiety, rebellions, intrusive thoughts, weird sense of humour, and the constant emptiness?  


Obviously It's not all melancholy, it got other shades. romance, hope, grief, loss, longing, heartbreak, childhood trauma, change, growth, pressure, freedom, betrayal, imaginations and perhaps something else entirely.

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I write because if i cant get rid of these scars, i might as well turn them into art. 
I write because, i can escape into a dreamlike reality, i can make-up a world i believe in. 
I write because It's safer to bleed on paper. 
i write to make something beautiful out of the mess I've Been/Go through.

my poems are where i bleed safely, where pain has permission to speak, where dreams come true.

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I just had nowhere else to post these :P

They're soft spells, tiny rebellions.
a way to undo the curse i never asked for.

This isn't just poetry.

This is a way to survive, to get rid of my own thoughts, perhaps.