To the people who have hurt me

There isn't really much to say

to the people who have hurt me

because in any time, in any way

the pain remains the same. 

I may be young, but I've been hurt;

I hide the pain behind a mask - 

from a broken family to a broken heart, 

from a tragic loss to everything  falling apart; 

"I'm okay" is my answer, if you dare ask.

There is nothing else we can do

but wait until time heals everything. 

I actually have to say thanks, though

because I actually learned a few things:

From my dad who wasn't  home a lot, 

('cause work was more important than his tot)

to always be satisfied with what you have

and always cherish the woman you love

because once you make that one mistake,

the trust that was there you can never retake. 

Still, growing up as a bastard isn't so bad, 

but I will never, ever be like you, dad. 

From my grandma who sadly passed away, 

(and even now I still have no words to say)

you told me to help people without asking why

and that it's okay for young men to cry 

because that shows others that we have feelings, too - 

all of these things you taught me to do.

I hope that you're happy up in the sky

and that your Star will guide me from up high. 

From the girl who first broke my heart, 

know that I was really torn apart

'cause I thought that it was going to last

even though things were going a bit too fast... 

I learned the hard way that when you have a crush

you should take it slowly and don't ever rush

because if you do, you're headed to nowhere

and you'll lose her as quick as you found her. 

From all my haters talking behind my back

and also the racists that are calling me black:

talk all you want, you don't know who I am

and seriously, do I look like I give a damn?! 

Yes, your words hurt me, I must admit

so much that one time I wanted to slit;

but I'm better than that and I'll never change

who I am into a complete stranger. 

Well, I guess I found something to say

to the people that hurt me the most.

They're part of what makes me who I am, in a way

and to that I raise my glass for a toast! 

Me, Love, and Anxiety

Recently, I realized one thing about myself: I try to make everyone around me happy. From my parents, to my special someone, to my friends, even acquaintances; I try to make everyone around me happy. I suppose that's how I show them that I love them, one way or another.

Yes, I know that loving someone isn't just about that. It isn't only about giving something to the other person, whatever it may be; it's about having a connection, a bond that won't be broken easily, no matter what. It's about finding someone to be with - no words needed - in an open field under the stars. It's about finding a friend who would be able to forgive your mistakes, because you're still learning. It's about having someone to lean on. It's about finding your safe haven in a place other than your own's.

Before, I thought that to keep this "connection", I should always have something to talk about: "How was your day?" or "What are you doing?" or whatever topic it may be. I always ask the same questions, and I'm almost sure to get the same reply every single time. I ask people these questions so often that they more than likely find it annoying. But I still asked them anyway, because that's the only way I knew.

All my life I have always felt like I've been isolated from the world - a caged bird, alone in its cage. That is why I act the way I am, because I don't know anything else. Really, I want to break free from these walls that surround me and be free to do whatever I want, but... I can't! It always feels like there are chains dragging me back to that cramped up room, sealed away from the outside. It would be nice if there was someone who could help me, but life doesn't work like that. The only person that can help myself is myself, I know that. The problem is this: anxiety gets the better of me.

This is why I am not much of a gambler. I always take the safest route out, because I know that it would be best. But what if that wasn't the best for me? What if, instead of just lazing around, I led a whole group of people to do something together? Or maybe become a travel journalist, with the chance to see the world, instead of working from morning til night, stuck in one place until the day I die? What if..?

They are all "ifs". Nothing will happen unless you actually do it. The same goes to love. If we don't risk it all, then we won't get anywhere. "High risk, high reward", as they say.

Sure we risk it, but sometimes it gets to our head. We become too hasty, too aggressive, too... vulnerable. And we don't usually notice it, but we are. I am. I know that I've been doing a lot of things lately, but they really aren't what I want. In fact, I'm not sure what I want. But it's too late to change anything now.

Love? I don't regret anything. But there is only one thing that I'm scared of: not knowing what in the world I'm supposed to do...