بیست...

I don't even know why I shared that poem. It feels so personal to be here. Maybe, just maybe i was hoping to to be free of it once I put it out there. Think that'll work? بیست......

And I'll go back to sleepTo forgetting what I actually needLove and ironically not peaceCuz life is not a straight line, it's curvy n with heavesMine has been a line for years like a dead man's heartbeatFrom losing people I thought I would meetAgain, n now I am lostN apparently they were all I gotCuz Idk how to live but dieI kill myself every day trying to be strong,Trying to forget n live on every fucking timeThat I remember they're goneN i'm all alone with my painN lips dried n hands folded n cold n aloneWhat do you think I need? Where do you think i went wrong? بیست......

I just realized these days every celebration, every festival, even things that used to make me happy, like snow, only make me feel lonely. Or lonelier... other people's celebrations seem to be my funeral. When will i get sth real? Sth to compensate for all this lonely, all the funerals i secretly attended to n cried at?

بیست......