Who am I? I don¶t know, but what I know is that I wont be who you tell me to be defying society and being free« Sofia Avila
Death is the end of the sentence,

The day I will break free from this cell. I will proceed to heaven, I will proceed to hell. I will recycle my life and leave my belongings. The cops will grieve me but son forget me. They will lock someone in there, Happy to bar their heart. And we all pay the sentence, And we all fear the end. Maybe we are criminals, Or accused by faith. But we all got her somehow, Death is the only key. But we are all afraid of breaking free. Maybe the sun is too bright outside, Or our freedom ties us. But no soul can live in chains forever. I must wonder off, into destiny.

God might be hiding in the next corner, The corner we all search for, The corner we are all afraid of finding. Once we die we will be forgotten No matter how deep your footprint No mattered how strong the sand The sea is always stronger The waves drag carelessly. No matter how green your leaf Leafs grow again and hope will be replaced We are born in silence and we die the same. We get paradise, But we choose the apple. We get a chance of winning, But its never as inspiring as defeat.

When one door opens Another closes. But I have ran out of keys, I have ran out of hope. The house is full of doors But none are welcoming. What happens when there are no more doors to open, What happens when you only have one room? I can keep trying but the door is still locked, I can keep looking but I know the window is shut. And maybe one day I will find the key, And maybe that day the room will be empty.

I was given the freedom to choose an identity if I hid it down beneath. I was told I didn¶t matter no matter what I did. I was convinced the world would go on turning If I died or if I lived. So I stopped trying to matter, Doing nothing was my destiny. They told me dreams were wishes no shooting star fulfills. They told me faith was stupid, I had to see if I wanted to believe. They told me what to think, They told me what to say, I was different but I was still the same. They gave me chains, And an opportunity to tie them in whatever knot I chose. They gave me keys out of reach. Just to remind me there was another choice. The key still dangles somewhere near my heart, But I¶ll never be the same, I know I¶m different beneath the mask of reality.

Does anybody know the pain Of whispering when your heart wants to scream. Of falling when you are carrying wings. Of loving when hate surrounds you, Of singing when silence is prominent. Of being happy in smiles you cant show. Of being the color in a black and White world.

I am what you think of me, Just a different face with the same thoughts. I am what you thought of me, Another unopened book judged my a cover I didnt choose. I am what you made of me, Another empty portrait colored by the same White paint. I am what I see beside me, Another human, Inside a window tasting the rain. And it's ok, it's the way I¶m meant to be, I can't be different, because i am the same. I¶m fine right in the middle, it's what has been written down for me. Just another pen running inkless through the paper .

What is the truth? Maybe drawers that stay locked. Maybe illusions lying beneath gags. If everyone believes it does it mean its true? If I don¶t believe it do I lack faith? Is there a devil is there a God? Or are they human creations to have something to hang on? If we don¶t see it, it might as well exist. If we see it, it could be fake. Should I trust crowned liers, Or so told honest man? But I cant fight a war that is only me. Even if my pebbles are golden, The chairs they have are stronger. And everyday we add what can prove out truth a lie Another layer of dirt, Topped with flowers, Hidden away. Is it worth believing lies just to call ourselves believers?

-Better to be naïve than to be wrong, better to live life than to live long. -No one is who they pretend and eventually they forget. We yell our discomfort in a whisper, Afraid of climbing not afraid to fall. -I lost in a race with no competitors, I lost what I didn¶t have. Falling in debt with myself. You cant fight war with war. -Winter is scared of fall. Rain is afraid of wind. Smiles hide from laughs. Humans don¶t live lives. -I was a bird expected to fly. Given wings and a nest too high. I learned to fly but never did. I had potential, that was it. -I rather be filled with anger than silence. -I am nothing but a mere existence. It takes weigh of my shoulders. A lie of importance, Masked in flesh and blood. -Its not about having a full glass, its about being thirsty. -Why choose a tree, when we can have a mountain? Why choose a cage, When we can just be free? -We might be dead, happy to be alive. -What if the devil wears a human mask?

-We are prisoners of destiny. -Yesterday has the power of beating the present in a race. -What is it about dreams? Unhappy till they come true, Unsatisfied once they do. So why do we keep dreaming? When do we stop? We wish they will come true, That somehow the impossible will be possible. That dreams are the wrapping In the gift of happiness. We paint a mask of hope, Praying it will become your face. -They say time heals wounds, but it wont erase scars. -Serve it in dirt or silver platter, it wont really matter. -Maybe it is half empty or half full but optimism wont quench my thirst. -Trapped in a cage, the consequence, the art, of a wounded bleeding heart. -Hiding in rooms with open doors. -Fallen dreams washed at shore, picked by clouds, wishing to encore. Miracles I will never erase. Cherished treasures with a magical embrace. Every teardrop I wont regret. -Count the teardrops before you are dry.

It is not easy fighting for a team you don¶t believe in.

Being alone in a race with no finish line. Driving home with no direction. Knowing your name but not who you are. Being set aside for being too different. Given no chance to win or to lose. Crying in silent smiles So you don¶t stand out, Go with the crowd. Can the mirror tell me who I am?

ill rebel from inside the mask. Is it wrong because it is not right? Is it a lie when you believe its true? I dont embrace death but I wont deny it. I cant control it, I can only befriend it. I cant question life, I can only accept it. I cant ask questions with no answer. Im soaking with inspiration, but getting nothing done. My soul is expectant, the nothingness of the world. We cant fight arms with open arms. Fight war with war. Fight with peace and youll get killed. Can you be filled by emptiness to the point of satisfaction? Good and bad, actions in stereotype.

Can I live knowing Ill die? Why do we learn from mistakes? Why do we need wounds before we heal? Why do we need rain to see the rainbows? Why does everything need to be dark so we can see the light?

Tears echo in an almost empty tent. But its not from the sickness, its not for the pain. Distant guitars sound, But he know they are not from heaven. What awaits for him is only eternal silence. No afterlife, not even a memory. Just a body forgotten by humanity, Just a death replaced by a birth disintegrating with the wind. So there is no more reason to fight? Nothing keeps him in earth anymore. Enveloped in light, He welcomes the truth, He embraces the end, And smiles at the prospect of starting again. Just a slight whisper moistures his lips, He wont be heard, but he still says it. The darkness regains and the tent is the same. Not living, then living, the dying again.

I recall the mask but not the face.

It wasn¶t an identity, it was just a name. There was no heartbeat, just an empty chest, A smile stitched to a crying face. She was sold by the tag people gave her, That was her worth. She was silenced by a gag, Invisible to everyone but herself. She mimicked satisfaction. There were no whips, Only threats hidden in smiles. There were no chains, But her heart was trapped. There was no blood, But she left the place wearing an identity over her naked body. She was seen as an insult, Before that pain. I knew she was unhappy But she was herself. She smiles now, But the person smiling is someone else.

What is faith?

Believing something you cant prove. Why is a lunatic crazy If he also sees what cant be seen? Then we are all lunatics accepted by society.

Why did she give up? Im sure someone loved her. Who pulled her to the ground? Who pushed her off the edge? Why would she choose death? Was someone waiting for her? Did her wings fail to fly, Or where they ripped apart? Did she choose to stop running or did she trip And broke her heart? We all question this, When its too late. She is carried by angels, Or hitten by slaves. There is no more sorrow, Just slight silence in the noise of the world.

The paper threatens me now, Afraid the pen will stop writing, That the mind will freeze. Trembling with the same old story, Maybe the days of glory are behind us. Its not inspiration anymore. It became a business with my own mind=. No one forced me but myself, Trying desperately to prove that the igniting talent Still burns. The words are not true anymore, They don¶t represent a message, The 


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