'maybe it's a sign'
look around, love. just, look around.
those voices in the back of your head, screaming and yelling, to hold my hand, but still somehow slipping away, fading back into nothing. foreign voices, voices i despise from the bottom of my heart, my body and soul, overpowering yours, their voices, dictating your actions. you're getting sucked into their unnecessary assumptions, letting yourself get manipulated by the most toxic souls you'd try to convince are your 'best friends' as you put it. understand their words, love. understand the motifs behind each and every letter being typed in an order to enter your brain and twist and turn into alternate meaning of their own, and you, believing every bit of it. is it fair, love? was it correct, to corner me in a side to prove that they're right, that she, is right. did i not hold you, hold you tight, clutching you in my arms, a place where you escaped everytime there was an avalanche of pain and tears, a place where you felt homeliness, a place you considered home, your home. i'm trying to help you, love, don't hate me. i'm trying to show you, love, it's them driving you crazy. i'm not trying to hurt you, love, don't lash out on me. i want you to look around, love. look around. maybe it's a sign. sign that reads out words, written in bold, as if they were meant to be screamed inside your ears, ringing every now and then, so you finally realise, that they are wrong, love. they are wrong. you cannot judge something you weren't a part of, love, they don't have the authority. they're not authentic enough, love, they're not. look around, love, look around. maybe it's a sign, love. maybe it's a sign. that they are wrong, love. they are wrong.
-diza ; 29/4/19
