It aches.
Echo, emptiness, and heavy essence,
that’s what I’ve felt.
Not past tense, actually.
I still do.

It hurts me physically,
and it grew.
It grew into something much bigger.

I can’t hear any thoughts
other than his.
I feel his pain.
His intentions.

Now I’m stuck
with a feeling that doesn’t even belong to me.
All he does is project it onto me.

Well… I can take it.
That’s the reason I got this power.
But not being able to really hear my own voice,
even when there’s quiet -
is something most of me
just can’t align with.

I sleep so we can meet,
To align with u in a dream.
Scenarios like when I read
not forced, just the subliminal scheme.

No pressure here, no twisted game,
just shadows dancing in a name,
a space where fear begins to fade
where you’re still kind, where you still stay.

You see me whole, like once before,
before the stillness,
before the door
you quietly closed
when you chose to ignore.

ignore what bloomed, ignore my ache,
walked past me like I couldn’t break.
Yet even pain begins to gleam
when I return into the dream.

So if we meet, let it be there
a world imagined, soft and rare.
Because the only place I still believe
is in the dream I never leave.

His art cuts deep into my heart.
The only time I truly see the colors of childhood again
is when the lyrics are blasting in my ears.
Even when every song carries a heavy weight
and a cup of sadness,
that’s when I feel most alive.

I need those lyrics carved into my walls,
etched beneath the surface.
I want the melody to run through my mind,
sombr in my head like a never fading song,
the only place where I truly belong.