Sometimes I feel so all alone.
Lord, I know I’m just a man.
It’s been almost half a day, and this song is still on repeat.
The more it continues to play, the deeper it goes through every tissue of me.
It’s been two days since that unforgettable bus experience. Most of the time, I forget. But today, I remembered, and it’s even more real now when my thoughts go through it.
There’s so much things to say, yet I uttered none.
The more I wanted to forget, all the more I remember.
The more I wanted to be cleansed, the more I feel filthier.
I feel so bad for being weak.
I shouldn’t have trusted the world, but myself.
It’s all real, and yet I feel fake.
This indescribable feeling may take time.
When wounds are unseen, it takes even more time to heal.
I catch myself staring blankly, looking out, looking far.
Thinking, but not thinking at all.
I should be attuned to the own beating of my heart.
That’s the only sign I get that I am still alive.