I know of the nights you were afraid of the moon.
You’ve told me how when you were a child you run from it because it was chasing you.
But you’ve grown to learn that being afraid of the moon is like being afraid of your own shadow.
I know of the nights that it still haunts you, though.
I know of the nights when you prefer to stay under a roof than to go outside and see the wide, night sky
Because you see, I know of the nights that you despised the moon for being too proud
Outshining the numerous stars that are giving all they got, even their life, just to catch our attention.
You said that one day she’ll come and get you.
That the tin roof above you would no longer be enough to hide you from her piercing eyes and one day she’ll finally come and get you.
That one day, she’ll outshine you too.

I remember that night when you told me you couldn’t answer my call because
You were too busy silencing the craters of the moon crashing in your room.
And I believed you.
I believed you for you always liked the darkness of your room. You always liked the clutter of your ***** laundry overflowing its basket, the crumpled papers of what you call “trash poetry”
mixing up with wrappers of chocolates and coffee powder and your ***** laundry and ---
You always liked to curl up in your tiny bed, not minding its untidiness
because you never had the strength to fix it this morning.
I always wanted to tell you that
I should be the one to say sorry for not being there for you.
I’m sorry that the only thing I could give you is a call.
I’m sorry I couldn’t even open your windows and tell you that the moon is already gone, and the sun is already shining bright and the world is waiting for you.
You, little son of the sun, should not stay in the dark.
I’m sorry I couldn’t get you out of the dark.
But I wish I could tell you that you were made to outshine the moon and everything else.
You were made to turn night to day.

I have too many wishes, too many words I wish I could tell you
Like how it is not your fault
It was never your fault and never going to be your fault
That we are but a speck of dust, a mere human that destiny is not something we can overpower
Well, we might move it a little if we struggle a bit harder
But some circumstances can just happen out of nowhere.
I wish I was more talkative so I could’ve silenced the whispers
I wish my voice was enough to silence the whispers
I could’ve screamed to the top of my lungs or even higher
Just to save you from falling too deep and drowning under your covers.

But we are nothing but a moon apart, never meant for each other right from the start
Yet with this time I got I hope you’d let me stay and fight
To become stronger, to become better, not only to save myself but to save you from this dark night
For you, my mighty knight, is worth saving too.
No, you are not merely worth saving but worth loving, worth keeping, worthy of everything that this night is hiding
And you deserve that.
So with this time I got I hope you’d keep me inside your heart so you will float
And I could dive under your covers to save you
Or I could climb to your roof to cover you
Keep the craters of the moon from hitting you.
And not let the moon overshadow you until you learn to put her brightness to shame.

I can save myself.
'salva te ipsa' marks my arm, a reclamation, declaration, that this body is mine!

I can love myself.
I can love myself so feircly that not even a thunderstorm dare rain on me.

I can fix my own ******* crown.
For it was my war-torn hands that placed it upon my head.

I can save myself, but for now, I'll tell the truth.
Saving myself means peace and contentment.

It does not mean having you.

Loving you is bittersweet, for this loneliness without you is all consuming.

Though you are unattainable.
You are the most beautiful start-lit sky.
Uncomparable, fleeting.

I can save myself.
'salva te ipsa' marks my arm, a reclamation, declaration, that this body is mine!

I can love myself.
I can love myself so feircly that not even a thunderstorm dare rain on me.

I can fix my own ******* crown.
For it was my war-torn haands that placed it upon my head.

I was having a conversation
With a friend
And she said
She hides her feelings
Around school
Around her family
Around her friends
And sometimes
From herself
I do the same thing
And that day
I realized
Us people that do that
We are usually the
People who
Help others
When others are down
Because that
That usually helps ourselves
But when people try to help us
What do we do?
We push them away
Because we don't like being the ones
Who need the help
Because to us
In our mind
That is admitting defeat
But in real life
It's actually us starting
To win
To win the battle
To win against the harsh feelings
And the harsh words
Our mind has gone to deal with
And through this though
I learned
Before you save someone else
Save yourself first.
Because YOU
Are what influence your feelings
About yourself
So when you save yourself
You are killing your
Thoughts that run through you
The thoughts that hurt you the most
People give up
Because to do this is such a long process
But you will get through it
I know you can.

At the end of the day, all we have is who we are and what we have become. So, be your own hero because darling, in this cruel world, nobody can really understand you or stay with you. We only have  ourselves till the end of our existence, others are mere spectators of our life who renders our existence a bit more easy or difficult as the situation requires.

You’re your very own hero,
shining the ray of hope in your dark corner,
standing up for yourself,
even when you hear yourself stutter and falter.
You do your very own thing,
comfortable and beautiful in your own skin,
you’re that one true best friend you’ll ever have,
who will literally be there through thick and thin.

Not all heroes wear capes,
they’re normal humans who strongly live on.
Not all heroes fly through cities,
they walk ahead, all alone, even when everyone is gone.
Not all heroes save people,
some save themselves when they think
that they have nothing more.
Not all heroes want a ‘great future’,
they just endeavor to live life better than before.

So be your own hero,
look into the mirror and give it a wink,
love that hero looking back at you,
let that hero live every day, life goes by in a blink.

its so much more heroic to say, i saved myself. but the truth is,
oh yes the toxic truth,
here it comes,
steady your morals!
he saved me, i was burnt to a crisp..
and he took my ashes and smeared them over his heart.

Now i can feel the life in me drumming its way through my blood once again.
I wish i could say i stood on my own two feet, but i have not
i am proud of him, for saving me.
If not me,
it will be
he,
why should i be ashamed of that?

Of course, it would have been heroic if i had done it,
but i was never one to be
'the hero'
anyways.

Much like being trapped in an elevator,
Awaiting your rescue,
Wondering if you should be the one to save yourself,
But you start panicking once the doors wont open,
You feel yourself shrinking,
Drowning in your thoughts,
Internally collapsing from the stress,
You begin to hyperventilate,
But not audibly, no, it's completely silent,
The utter silence itself is deafening,
You question the stability and structure
Of the suspended room that your life is being held in,
Back to the silence, was that a creaking sound
Or are you just starting to become paranoid now,
Is someone on the outside trying to pry the doors open
To help rescue you, and get you out,
Or is someone simply mindlessly hitting the elevator button
Waiting for it to come, though it never will,
Surely they'll become annoyed and just take the stairs,
But how are you supposed to get out of this situation,
This state of complete panic, you start to sob,
And that's when you realize that this is what anxiety feels like.