Maybe the saddest lines can’t really be written, and the saddest thoughts can’t really be uttered. And maybe, I miss you, is the closest thing we could have.
“Why do you write sad things?” is one of the hardest questions I’ve always been asked.
How could I answer that? How could I tell you that all I have is sadness, and all I can share to the world is sadness? How could I tell you that every time I get a little glimpse of happiness, I always just save it for myself, keeping it close to my heart, memorizing every details and feelings, and not writing it down because writing it down feels a lot like giving it away, like I am letting that little happiness go. How could I tell you that I write sad things to purge it out from my system? That it is impossible to write sad things without sadness consuming you to the core to the point that all you can do is to bleed it out on the paper. How could I tell you that? That I write sad things to let it out, hoping that one day it would never come back, that maybe one day, I will finally succeed in writing all my sadness away.
I’m sorry for every person I’ve ignored,
For every person I’ve hurt,
For every person I’ve caused pain,
They say, hurt people, hurt people
Maybe that’s the reason why,
I’ve hurt every people that gets too close to me,
And maybe that’s also why,
Of all the ones that I’ve hurt,
It’s been really me who I am most sorry for.
For I’ve hurt myself more than you’ll ever know.
She built a wall, a fortress so high
That keeps her a prisoner of her own mind
So on days she couldn’t glimpse the sun
Please don’t tell her just to get out and get about
Because darling, I assure you
She doesn’t know how to escape
This lonely castle she built
Out of her own tears, cuts, and howl of anguish
Where hidden doors are called Happiness
And keys are called Prozac
Or sometimes the usual,
‘It’s just in your mind.’
I remember the time I gave you a little bit of my happiness, a happiness extracted from my own soul, just to see you make it thru. You were always sad then. And I know what sadness can do to people, how it could destroy them from the inside out, so I gave you a little bit of me, a little bit of my soul, a little bit of my light.
I forgot to tell you that those little bits are all that I have, that I am a falling star living on a little grace, and that as much as I am beautiful to look at, my light is easy to burn out, that I already gave you all the light I have even when you didn’t make a wish, and now I’m left all cold, dark, and sad, and the trails of my light slowly snuffing out.
It is the feeling of tiredness that creeps on you even if you haven’t done anything all day long. It is the crying spells that overtakes you when you are finally left all alone after a long day of pretending to be okay. It is the waking up every 2AM with your thoughts all jumbled up and morose. It is the desire to sleep all the time, to stubbornly stay on bed, and be continually lost in dreams that never makes sense. It is wanting to be somewhere that isn’t really here on the here and now. It is the staring contest at the ceiling, when you finally found a temporary peace in finding no thoughts, no chaos, no feelings, just a deep hollowed numbness at the center of your being.