And If i Live Again

I thought it’s easy—breathing the oxygen of existence—feeling the lexicon of solitude.

But I haven’t fully understood it yet; just how gruelling the narratives of life

In a hollow bed of silence, wandering aimlessly, deep in the core of my mind—

everything had obliterated—reality terminated the swarming daydream

Life, after all, will be gone soon.

In a cruel place of broken things, I knew I meant to feel it—the pain somewhere in
between my shadows

Life with a fragile confidence is so exhausting…

When all I could do and look after is a place to rest after the long-hour of trying

Would it be different if I had swayed myself I’m okay?

But our life connects in the living of emotions

And I want to helplessly tell you that it’s more than feeling the pain of losing yourself

How could it be like this?

Living in such an open door but had no grit to ease the feeling of losing one’s
confidence

There must be one more life afterwards...

But I’m beyond grateful; surely I’d miss this but I wouldn’t live much…

I wouldn’t want to see myself making such effort to continue living when I’m drowned
anymore—and I wouldn’t want to swim, I will allow my body to feel it.

I would descend like the leaves wanting to touch the perfection of rest

And if I live again, I would live under a canopy of symbolic infinity.