I would rather hurt myself than to ever make you cry.

Today, another mundane day.
And each hour passed slower than it usually does.
Here I am,
Questioning myself what have I done to myself.
To be caught in this state of mess.

A day has passed,
But I can't seem to find the answer still.
Now what do I do?

Hey,
I'm screaming inside.
But why can't my voice seem to reach you?

When all I really need is just that touch which only you can give.

You would never ask me why
my heart is so disguised.